Doctor-Patient Confidentiality
by kimsooyeon123
Summary: Maybe love is something that can't be defined, something that is so infinite that not even all the stars in the galaxy could outnumber it. Maybe it's so incredibly simple that it can't actually be put into words, because words just complicate it.
1. First Session

Story is not mine. Credits to deathbyeyesmile at asianfanfics

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* * *

Her lungs felt heavy, as if there was an anvil suspended on a rope above, slowly descending. Her eyes darted around the room; vanilla walls surrounded her, several frames gracing it for feature. There were no windows, and that made her panic. She felt the walls closing in on her, felt them coming closer, and closer. Her chest tightened, her heart hammering, constricting against itself.

She dropped her head, distracting herself with her nail polish. She picked and picked at it, the hot pink colour beginning to fade and shrivel into a sickly cherry. She continued picking, though her mind was now somewhere else entirely.

She had no idea why she was here; maybe because her father suggested she go, maybe because she had watched her best friend cry over her confessions and demons, maybe because she actually wanted to get better.

But what was _getting better_ , anyway?

Getting better is something sick people do, but she wasn't sick. No, not really. She was worse than sick. She didn't know exactly what she had, because there were so many things to face. Maybe that's why she was here today, to get some answers. Words had been tossed around before about what she had, the main ones people suggested being _depression_ and _anxiety_. But they were such broad statements, such generalisations. It wasn't like her to fit under such a large umbrella of topics. There had to be more to it than those diagnoses, there just had to.

"Hwang Miyoung," A voice called out, making her raise her head. It was a short lady, as wide as she was tall. Though, through her chubby cheeks you could see bright eyes. She remembered that she had eyes like that once; apparently they looked even livelier when she smiled. But she forgot what smiling was like, or at least, she forgot what a real smile was like. Everything she did now was hollow, as if she was just a visitor watching over her own body. "Hwang Miyoung."

"Ah, yes," She stood from her seat, neatening her skirt as she looked at the woman properly. "That's me."

The woman smiled at her, and it was genuine, which surprised Tiffany. Her pen pointed down the hallway, signalling for her to follow its path. Tiffany stood still in her spot, her legs not wanting her to move. The walls felt like they were closing up again, her hands balling into fists as her mind argued with itself.

"Doctor Kim will see you now," Her voice was like honey drizzling over ice cream, infinitely sweet. But again, the word _doctor_ didn't sit well with Tiffany. It made her sound ill, and maybe in a way, she was. But there was no way she was going to admit that. She looked down, watching her feet as they began to charge forward.

She didn't know if she bowed at the woman or not, but she hoped she did, because she was really sweet, even if there was only two sentences exchanged.

She trudged down the hall, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular, but at the same time they focused on everything. They noticed the oil paintings on the walls, how every face was smiling and all the scenery was green and fresh; they noticed the bits of fluff sticking into the carpet, and if she were to take her shoes off, the fluff would get stuck to her socks; they noticed that there was one window at the end of the hallway, giving it a saint-like glow.

But before she knew it, she stood in front of the door that the woman had directed her to.

And then the fear got her.

It seeped through her pores like mist, digging and burrowing her way under her skin until it felt like it crawled. It snuck its way through her ribcage, wrapping around each bone, snapping them like twigs as it made its way towards her heart. It coiled around her heart like tendrils, strangling the air from her body until it wheezed out of her nose. She felt heavy, felt weak, felt like everything was weighing against her. And she hadn't even knocked yet.

The door clicked, and she only just raised her head in time for it to bump into someone else's. The pain didn't last very long, just a dull throbbing on her forehead. She reached up to it, her hand rubbing on the skin to soothe the sure to be rising bump.

"I'm sorry,"

The voice made her eyes widen, not expecting what she heard. It was light, almost like the voice could flutter away and fly. She opened her eyes, unable to take the curiosity any longer.

The voice matched the doctor perfectly. Her blonde hair was illuminated by the light of the window, making her appear to be an angel. But Tiffany wasn't so easily fooled, because behind those dark, long lashes, her eyes were full of spark. The kind of spark that tells you she's not as innocent as she looks. Then again, she found that endearing about the girl.

"You must be my next patient, please, come in."

She nodded, her tongue tied and voice dead in her throat.

She followed the doctor inside, noting that she must be higher up in the workspace hierarchy. The walls were flawlessly spotless, the oak floorboards un-scuffed and glamorous. She allowed her eyes to wander, just a little bit; there was only one photo frame in the entire room, sitting upon what she assumed to be the girl's desk.

"Alright, you can sit here if you like."

The girl directed her to the leather couch, and Tiffany couldn't help but realise how cliché this part of the room actually was. She nodded again, cautiously feeling out the softest spot on the couch before sitting on it.

She stared at her hands once more, picking at her nail polish. It had always been a bad habit of hers, one she hadn't been able to break since she was a child. Her mother always chastised her for it, but now, it was even harder to stop.

She heard the girl take a seat across from her, but to her surprise, there was no notebook in hand, nor was there a pen. She simply sat, her hands clasped together as one leg crossed over another. Tiffany looked up at her, and the girl offered her a soft smile. It was so contagious that she nearly smiled back.

Nearly.

"So, what's your name?"

Her thumb accidentally caught on her opposite one, scratching the soft skin. It didn't dig in hard enough to slice or bleed, but it stung. Tiffany gritted her teeth, gasping at the sensation. She trained her attention on it, attempting to soothe it with small circles.

"Tiffany," She whispered, but it seemed to be loud enough for the girl to catch.

"I thought it was Miyoung."

Tiffany shook her head, "I, uh," The pain had stopped in her thumb, but she didn't stop rubbing. It helped in a way, as if every circle was a huge one around her whole body. "I changed it."

"I see," The blonde said, nodding her head.

Did she, though? Tiffany really didn't believe that she saw, not at all. There was no way she would understand that, but of course, this is what she gets paid to say.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Tiffany," She said, although pronouncing her name with some difficulty. "I'm Doctor Kim, but you can call me Taeyeon if you prefer."

It was only then that Tiffany noticed that the girl's hand was extended, asking to be shaken. Normally, she would resist, not liking physical contact with people other than friends and family. But there was something about this girl – maybe her profession, maybe she just looked friendly – that put Tiffany at ease, that made her feel like she could actually grow to trust this girl.

She took her hand, shaking it carefully. She worried she might have shaken it too many times, but when the blonde smiled encouragingly at her, her worrying stopped.

"So," Tiffany started, her feet shuffling awkwardly beneath her. She had no idea how these things worked, only knowing what she's seen in movies. She hovered her hands over the couch, "Do I lie down, or?"

"You can sit up if you'd like, it just makes people feel more at ease if they lie down."

"Oh," She had no idea what to do next, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. But she was told a while ago that she thinks too much; so she tried to stop, ultimately laying down in an attempt to feel more at ease like Taeyeon had said. "So, what do you want to know?"

"It's more the question of, what are you willing to tell me?"

The corner of Tiffany's lips quivered, almost reaching a smirk. It had been a long time since anyone had parried her words, and she liked it. She liked that the blonde wasn't going to tiptoe around her mental state like the others.

"I guess that depends on what you ask."

"Alright, I'll start simply." Taeyeon leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on her now uncrossed legs. It creased her suit pants, and Tiffany desperately wanted to iron them in that moment. "Why did you come here today?"

"That's a really good question," A question she didn't even know the answer to. She had no idea what had tipped her over the edge, no idea what finally made her crack and accept that she needed help. "It's more than one thing."

"Go on."

"Well, my father had suggested that I see someone for a year or two now, because that's when everything got bad again. But then there's also the fact that my . . . _Condition_ , I guess, is beginning to affect my relationships with people."

"In what sense is it affecting those relationships?"

"My siblings tiptoe around me, trying not to say things that might set me off. My father is always cautious, but that only makes me mad at him. And my best friend, she," Tiffany trailed off, clearing her throat, even if nothing was stuck except words. "She cries a lot because of me, even if she won't admit it, I know I'm stressing her out with my problems."

"So you came to put everyone's mind at ease?"

"Sort of."

"Let me ask you this, then," Taeyeon leaned on her hands. "Do you actually know what your condition is?"

"I've been told many things."

"Such as?"

"Anxiety," She stuck her index finger up, beginning to number the diagnoses. "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder," She sighed, furrowing her brows. "And depression."

"Do you think you actually have these mental states?"

"I . . ."

She had no idea how to respond. After all, how were you meant to tell a stranger you had depression, especially when she can't even admit it to herself?

"I think so," She mumbled.

"That's good," She whipped her head at Taeyeon's words, not understanding how having these conditions is a good thing. "I mean admitting it, admitting it is good."

"Oh," It was the only way she could respond, her mind racing far too quickly for her mouth to speak. Which was probably a good thing.

"I'm going to ask you a few more questions, if that's okay."

"Um," Tiffany bit her lip, not sure of what Taeyeon was really asking her. _A few more questions_ could mean any variety of ways to find the root of her problem, but she wasn't really ready to find the root of it. She was still stuck in the branches, climbing her way down, far from the root. "Okay."

"Don't worry, there just simple questions. I promise that if you get uncomfortable, we can stop."

"I don't . . . I don't like stopping." She admitted, releasing her bottom lip.

"Alright, what about this, every time I ask a question you don't want to answer, you can ask me a question?"

"What kind of question?"

Taeyeon smiled; it was lopsided, and a hidden dimple arose on her chin. She had no idea why, but Tiffany found it cute, a contrast to her professionalism.

"You can ask me any question you want," Taeyeon leaned back from her knees, beginning to lounge on her arm chair. It made Tiffany more comfortable, but that was probably the point. "But first, I have to ask my questions."

"Okay."

"When did you start showing symptoms for each condition?"

"I was diagnosed properly with OCD when I was thirteen, but my parents had been wondering whether I had it since I was eight."

"Mhmm, and what about the other two?"

"Um, I was told I had depression just after I was told I had anxiety, it was on the same day."

"And when was that?"

"I was fifteen." She said, her throat beginning to close up. "But I beat depression after I started taking meds."

"Then what made it come back?"

Tiffany looked down at her hands, noticing that since her depression was mentioned, she had picked off two thirds of her nail polish. In her mind, she could imagine her mother scolding her, telling her that the effort was wasted. But then she imagined her mother sighing, hugging her and apologising for yelling. Her mother really was a sweet lady; she just had a short temper.

Just like she did.

"Why did you become a psychologist?"

Taeyeon's eyebrows shot up, she clearly hadn't expecting Tiffany to ask her any questions, or if she did, none that personal.

"I wanted to help people get better."

There it was again, _getting better_. It was said so often that it may as well be taboo; at least, it was in Tiffany's mind.

"But why psychology?" Tiffany sat up from her seat, her back leaning against the soft cushions. "Why not a doctor, or a surgeon? They help people, too."

"Nice try, but you're only allowed one question at a time, just like me." The blonde wagged a finger, winking at Tiffany with a smile.

She felt her cheeks heat up.

"Now," She started, raking a hand through her hair. "If you don't want to talk about the depression, let's talk about something else."

* * *

Tiffany opened the door to her home, the musky scent of her brother's cologne filling her nose as she walked inside. It had been not long since his last visit, but she assumed it was because her first session was today that he came.

She was not surprised in the slightest as she walked into the lounge area, the familiar faces entering her line of vision. Her sister sat on the left of the couch, legs dangling over the arm as she chatted with her friend, Jessica. She was seated on a pink beanbag nearby, legs crossed and smiling. Her brother was opposite her sister, although he sat with manner, one leg folded over the other as he leant back. He was talking with her father, who was as always, sitting in one of the armchairs. But of course, there was still one armchair, though no one ever dared to sit in it.

Tiffany made her way over towards them, sitting in between her siblings as she was immediately bombarded with questions. She decided to ignore them all until they settled down, propping her feet up on the coffee table. Her father would normally reprimand her for that, but for the past few months, she's gotten away with it.

Once the yelling had died down into a murmur, she looked at them all. Their faces were all full of worry, but anticipating an answer.

She shrugged, "It was okay."

"That's it, just okay?" Her sister shook her shoulders, not allowing her to shrug them any further. "What did you two talk about?"

"You make it sound like we were on a date."

"Well, that depends," Jessica started, a smile tugging at her lips. "Was your doctor cute?"

Come to think of it, yeah, she was. But there was no way Tiffany could say that, no way would anyone even begin to understand where that thought came from.

"I don't know," She said, not being able to think of another answer. "I guess she is, but we'd have to get Leo to make sure."

Her brother smiled, "Ah, a girl doctor."

Tiffany nodded, "On second thought, don't go near her. I don't need my psychologist rambling on about how suave my own brother is."

"So you admit that I'm suave?"

"Only in your dreams, buddy." Tiffany ruffled his hair, not remembering the last time she was this close to being happy.

Conversation was light throughout everyone's stay, but as the night died down, so did Tiffany's almost happiness. Her family had left, and only Jessica remained. Which was a given, seeing as the two were housemates.

Tiffany had since laid across the couch, her feet nearly touching the end. She blew her hair from her face, the red strands suspended in the air before crashing down beside her. She heard Jessica scoot forward on the beanbag, coming closer towards her.

"So, how was it really?"

Tiffany sat up, throwing her hands into the air.

"It was horrible!" She yelled, crumpling back down onto the couch in a tangle of her own limbs. "She asked all these questions, and I mean, they weren't bad questions . . . But she's just so good at her job, I'm pretty sure she has me all figured out already."

"So what if she does?"

"Then that just means more questions. And the more questions there are, the more I think, and the more I think . . ."

She trailed off, her body beginning to shake uncontrollably. She felt the familiar fear, felt the walls closing in, smelt the dread in the air.

But then she felt warm arms circle around her, bringing her back to reality.

"Whoa, slow down." Jessica rubbed circles onto her back, and it felt like the same safe circles she was tracing onto her thumb hours ago. "It's okay, no need to panic."

"Sorry,"

"It's alright," She pulled back from Tiffany, a warm smile on her face. "But now you really have to answer me honestly."

"What?"

"Was she cute?"

Tiffany laughed, and for the first time that week, it was a real laugh.


	2. Problem Number One

She was in a meadow covered in flowers, the white petals dancing along to the tune of the wind. She swayed along with the gust, her clothing sticking to her body from the force. A smile was on her face, a real one, too. It made her mouth widen, showing her teeth and gums; it made her nose crinkle, a small bump rising in the middle; it made her cheekbones rise higher and higher until her eyes became nothing more than mere crescents.

So, this was what it was like to smile for real.

It had been so long since she had known, so long since she had felt this content, this happy –

– This dreamlike.

Her alarm screeched through her ears, awakening her from what she was sure was bliss. But by the time she had sat up and moved her hair from her eyes, she had already forgotten what her dream was about.

One foot after the other, her legs trudged heavily down the hallway and to the bathroom. It seems Jessica could hear her footsteps, because the next thing she knew, the brunette was hollering out to her from the kitchen.

"Good morning," She chirped.

Tiffany only groaned in response, which was surprisingly a better response than what she usually gave her friend.

She closed the bathroom door behind her, leaning against it for a moment while she closed her eyes. She wondered what her dream was about, and whether it was even worth remembering. It must've been half decent, at least, because she woke up with a slight tug in her lips.

She made her way towards the sink, preparing to splash water on her face.

But then she saw it.

The basin was a huge mess, or it was in her eyes. Nothing was put away, nothing was even . . . Nothing was right. She began to breathe heavily, trying to calm herself as she stared down at the clutter. This was how her mornings usually started; groggily waking up, being startled by something, and then everything would kick in. It normally started with her OCD, but because of her anxiety, that didn't last long. Before she knew it, she was screaming Jessica's name.

The brunette ran in immediately, coming up in front of Tiffany. Probably to obscure her view of the basin.

"Tiffany," She cooed, pushing her backwards slightly. "It's okay, calm down."

But it was too late. She could already feel herself slipping away, could already feel the telltale pumping of her heart in her ears, feel the wracking of her bones.

But then she was turned around, facing the wall and her friend.

"Tiff, it's okay." Jessica kept going, rubbing along the length of her arms, trying to soothe her. "Stay with me, alright?" She took a deep breath, though the exhale was shaky. "You're doing good, that's it,"

She stared down at her feet, watching her toes wiggle, trying to distract herself. Her brain stopped racing for a moment, but in that moment, everything stopped shaking, including her.

"Thanks, Jessi." She said, her voice filled with guilt.

And just like that, just like every other morning, Jessica smiled, as if forgetting the incident ever happened.

"What are friends for?"

* * *

The rest of the morning went as usual, Tiffany keeping her thoughts to herself as she ate breakfast, not mentioning that the world around her was starting to cave in underneath her. She only keeps things like this from Jessica because she doesn't want to worry the girl.

And she definitely doesn't want to make her break down again.

It's not something that happened often, because Jessica was a strong person. But sometimes, every few months, even, Tiffany will mention something and just like that, Jessica snaps.

She remembers the last time it happened, it was two weeks ago. The two were sitting, eating breakfast just like they are now. But instead of keeping her mouth shut, Tiffany mentioned that she wanted to fall asleep and not wake up.

It wasn't anything personal, it wasn't manically driven. She just wanted to be peaceful, wanted to feel just as happy as the girl in her dreams was. In her dreams, she smiles, laughs, and falls in love. In her dreams, there were infinite possibilities for contentment. Nothing like when she was awake. So, she'd let it slip at the breakfast table, in between a bite of her toast and sip of her strawberry milk.

She wasn't, however, expecting the response she got.

Jessica, one of the strongest women she's ever known, stared blankly at her. She didn't react, just stood, with her jaw clenched and mouth trembling. Tiffany could tell that her friend was trying to keep it together, immediately apologising, getting up from her seat to hug the girl. But Jessica inched away, a cold look in her eyes.

Tiffany still doesn't remember much of the yelling Jessica did, no; she had the quaking walls and tendrils of fear to thank for that. But she did remember some things Jessica had said, and she wasn't very fond of them.

" _You're not serious."_

 _"Please tell me you're lying."_

But the one she remembered most, the one she felt most guilty for, never left her mind. It replayed over and over, until she was drowning in her own culpability.

 _"I can't believe you would say something like that . . . Why would you say something like that!?"_

It was in that moment that Tiffany felt most guilty, because Jessica was her best friend, her guardian angel, someone who has used countless amounts of blood, sweat and tears for her benefit. And here she was, talking about throwing it all away to live in some dreamland without her.

She was disgusted with herself that day, absolutely horrified with her own suggestion.

Which is why she now sits, her mind festering with bad thoughts, but her mouth clamped closed. But this time, it's Jessica who speaks through a mouthful of toast.

"Do you have an appointment today?"

Tiffany nods.

"Yeah, in about an hour or so," She takes a sip of her milk, noticing that she forgot to add the strawberry flavouring this morning. It made her tongue feel chalky, but she didn't complain, just stuffed it into the back of her mind for later on. "I'm gonna get going soon, actually."

"That's fine; I was going to hang out with a friend today anyway."

Tiffany feigned shock, mouth agape with a hand on her heart.

"Please say it isn't so, my love." She sighed dramatically, throwing an arm over her eyes. "Please tell me you're not seeing another."

Jessica laughed, a nice, warm laugh. It filled Tiffany's chest, making her lips quiver upwards just in the slightest.

"God, Tiff, you're _such_ a loser."

"But you love me," She said, taking a small bite of her toast. She listened to it crunch in her mouth, only swallowing when the sound stopped. "C'mon, admit it."

"Well, someone has to." The brunette said, poking her tongue out at Tiffany.

"Too bad I got stuck with you; I could've had any range of women at my doorstep if I wanted."

Jessica snorted.

"Yeah, right," Her friend smirked. "Like who, your cute therapist?"

"Who said she was cute?"

"Oh, please, Tiff, your blush from last week practically screamed it at me."

"I didn't blush." She defended.

"I believe you." Jessica's voice practically dripped with sarcasm. "Totally – one hundred percent – believe you."

"I wasn't blushing!"

And the rest of their morning was spent like that; childishly arguing over Tiffany's supposedly reddened cheeks.

* * *

The leather felt odd underneath her fingertips, if Tiffany was going to be critical, it felt somewhat oily. Maybe because people had lied down on the couch, their hair and face and hands touching it, letting their skin glide across the fabric. She was a little disgusted by the visual, but then remembered that she too was running her hands along the arm.

Then again, that was just to distract herself.

Ever since Jessica had mentioned her blush, Tiffany couldn't help but wonder whether she really did find Taeyeon cute or not. She guesses maybe in the outside world, she would consider it. After all, who can resist someone with luscious hair, bright eyes, a button nose and a million dollar grin?

Tiffany's cheeks started to heat up, not even realising she had noticed that much about her therapist. Then again, she doesn't realise how much she notices about anything. She tends to just wave everything off, having always been told that she's a little _too_ observant sometimes.

"So, Tiffany,"

She looked up from the arm of the chair, her eyebrows rising to acknowledge the girl. Taeyeon offered her a faint smile, though it disappeared quickly.

"Can you tell me some things?"

"What kind of things?" She asked, not sure if she wanted the answer or not.

"I thought we'd work our way up, you know." Taeyeon leaned one leg over the arm of her chair, lying down lazily. In that moment, Tiffany noted that Taeyeon looked a lot like her sister. Well, she sat like her anyway. Maybe they shared personality traits, maybe they're alike. But she could tell that she was thinking too much, so she tried to stop. "Today I'd like to talk about your OCD, possibly more if you're willing to."

"Do we still have the same deal?"

Taeyeon grinned, nodding. "Of course."

"Then, I guess that's fine."

"Good. Now," Taeyeon picked up a section of her hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail, beginning to play with the ends. Tiffany found it cute that Taeyeon played with her hair like a child, so enchanted by the sleek strands. But before she could register any further, Taeyeon flicked her hair out of the way, turning her head to look at Tiffany. "You told me last week that you were diagnosed with OCD at the age of thirteen, yes?"

Tiffany nodded.

"But your parents had suspicions from when you were eight?"

"Uh, yeah, mhmm."

"What made them become suspicious?"

"I was just," She dropped her head, looking at her hands on the leather again. Her pale skin was such a contrast to the dark fabric, and it bothered her to look at it. She removed her hand, putting both of them in her lap, fingers drumming against her jean covered thighs. "Just particular about things."

"What things would that be?"

"According to my parents, I used to be really particular about neatness, but at the time they just thought I was a neat freak like my grandmother."

"Are you still particular about that now?"

"Uh, sort of?" She hesitated, not sure where this conversation will lead. "It's not really about neatness anymore. Well, it is, but it's not."

"I'm not following."

"It's more symmetry than anything else. If everything is messy, that's fine, but if it's unevenly messy, then I begin to panic."

"Can you give me an example?"

Tiffany thought backwards, trying to remember when she last had an episode like that.

"This morning, actually. I went into the bathroom to wash up, and my housemate had left a clutter. Normally, I'd be fine with it. But nothing," Her voice caught in her throat, throat beginning to feel tight just thinking about the basin. "Nothing was even! It was just . . . Just there, and it was just taunting me, asking me to fix it and−"

"Calm down, stay with me."

Her voice was lighter, softer. Instead of flying away, her voice now sounded as if it finally found a cloud to land on, taking refuge in the fluffiness.

Tiffany settled immediately after hearing her, her voice no longer cracking or strained.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"Because, I hate this."

She hesitantly looked up at Taeyeon, who did nothing than quirk a brow. She didn't know how she felt about that.

"What do you hate?"

"I hate losing control, I hate thinking too much, I just hate all of this," She began to shudder, her hands trembling. "I hate it."

"Why do you hate thinking too much?"

Tiffany bit her lip, not ready answer that question. Because, if she was being honest with herself, she didn't even know the answer yet.

"Why do you want to help people get better, Taeyeon?"

Taeyeon smirked, not too much, just the corners of her lips, but it was enough to send Tiffany's mind spiralling.

"Because I wanted to return the favour."

"What favour?"

"You keep doing this; you gotta remember the rules, Tiffany."

"Right, sorry."

"No need to apologise, after all," Taeyeon sat up in her armchair, her smirk turning devious. The spark came back into her eyes, and Tiffany didn't know whether her heart sped up or stopped beating completely. "What's wrong with breaking some rules?"

"It could get you into trouble."

A soft laugh left Taeyeon, her dimple making an appearance.

It was most definitely cute.

"Let me tell you something about rules, Tiffany," She leant forward, her fringe falling in front of her eyes. It made her seem all that more mischievous, and Tiffany was now certain her heart sped up. "Rules were made to be broken. Besides, everything is more fun with a little danger."

Tiffany nodded, understanding Taeyeon's words completely.


	3. Fany

The hallway was dimly lit, small patches of light spewing upon the walls and floors. Tiffany couldn't concentrate on where she was going though, for her mind was somewhere else entirely.

She thought of her sessions, and why she began to even see a psychologist. She knew the answer to that, but what she didn't know the answer to, however, was why she actually felt better after going to them. Perhaps it was the relief of being able to tell someone her troubles, but then, she never really told Taeyeon much. Perhaps it was being able to get away from scrutinising eyes, but then, no one close to her really judged her. She delved deeper into her head, the answer just within her grasp.

That is, until she blinked, looked up; saw something she didn't think she'd see.

Two figures, arms locked around each other, mouths melded together. One was against the wall, her chocolate hair tangled between the taller girl's fingers.

Tiffany tilted her head, stopping in her tracks, deciding it would be best to just continue on without a fuss.

She shut the door behind her, walking towards the kitchen bench. She grabbed a lolly from the jar, beginning to unpeel its wrapper as she padded to the couch. She flopped down onto it, arms upright above her head so she could watch the lolly reveal itself.

Her eyes darted towards the door as she heard it open and shut, leaving Jessica in its wake. The brunette was flushed – Tiffany noticed – her cheeks red, pupils dilated and chest heaving. She pushed Tiffany's legs from the couch, sitting upon the room she'd just made with her chin resting on her knees.

"Hey," She said, making Tiffany lower her arms.

"Why are you so chirpy?"

Jessica backpedalled, her eyebrows sloping, bottom lip jutting out.

"No reason."

Tiffany huffed, twirling the newly peeled lolly between her fingers. It glistened under the light, her reflection somewhat perceivable in the yellow candy. Her brows knitted together as she looked up at her friend, no way was she going to buy that.

She studied Jessica more, trying to figure out what she was hiding from her. Her breathing was still heavy, her eyelids looking as if they had fluttered shut minutes ago. Tiffany noticed that the lip she had jutted out had little indentations on the inside, teeth marks, she thinks. A recognition of a blush played upon her cheeks, and it occurred to Tiffany that Jessica must have just been kissed silly.

Then it hit her.

"How was your day?"

"Um," Jessica's cheeks turned deep crimson, beginning to twiddle her fingers, a nervous habit of hers that Tiffany had picked up on. "It, um, it was good."

She popped the lolly into her mouth, her lips twitching as she realised she grabbed the flavour she didn't want. Despite the sour lemon flavour coursing through her mouth, she scooted upwards, facing her friend completely.

"Did you have fun?"

"Uh, yeah," Jessica breathed, a slow exhale leaving her. "Yeah, I um,"

"You kissed someone." Tiffany finished for her.

The brunette's head shot up, her eyes widening like she was a deer caught in headlights.

"How did you know?"

Pride swelled in Tiffany's chest, loving when she's right.

"Hallway," Was all she said.

It seemed it was all she needed to say, Jessica nodding, understanding her words.

"So," Tiffany started, changing her seating position. She mirrored Jessica, head atop her knees. "I want details."

"Huh?"

She nudged her best friend, an almost-smile on her face.

"C'mon, don't play coy with me, Jessi. Tell me about her, I want to know everything."

"Well, you know her."

She raised a brow, "I do?"

"Mhmm, its Yuri, the girl from work."

"Oh," Tiffany remembered immediately. Yuri was the girl Jessica had been pining over for the past two and a half weeks, and when Tiffany had seen her around, she couldn't deny that the girl was attractive. With toned curves and a gorgeous face, Tiffany found it hard to disagree with her friend. "Yeah, I remember her."

"Yeah, well, she invited me out today."

"So, she's the 'friend'." She said, adding air quotes on the last word.

"I'm not sure if we're just friends anymore," Jessica said, a soft smirk rising on her face.

Tiffany patted her friend on the shoulder, trying to reassure her friend through her eyes.

"'Bout time you got yourself someone."

"Wait, you're okay with me being, you know . . . Gay?"

"What?" Tiffany was shocked, appalled even, by the brunette's question. "Of course I'm okay with it. Jessi, you're my best friend no matter what, you know that."

Jessica launched herself at Tiffany, her thin arms wrapping around her neck.

"Thank you,"

Tiffany returned the hug, wondering why Jessica was even thanking her for accepting something so natural.

* * *

She frowned down at her nails, noticing that there was no nail polish to pick off. Maybe it was better off that way, maybe it was better that she didn't get to distract herself. But then, that's what's letting her thoughts wander.

They wandered onto the little things, little things that she never payed attention to. But now that she was paying attention to them, she couldn't push them away. They were burrowing into her brain, crashing down her walls, conquering her mind.

Now, all she could think about was Taeyeon. She was a strange little doctor, with a quirky attitude, sense of humour, and a disdain for the rules. It seemed so simple to her, yet so complex. How someone could be so good at their job, yet not like being held under the restrictions of it, it astounded Tiffany.

Of all the doctors she could get, she just had to get the fascinating one. It made no sense to her; how she could be so intrigued by someone who was just meant to help her get better. But getting better never really seemed like it could be in her cards, never seemed plausible. But when she talks to the blonde therapist, she can't help but feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel, like one day, she just might get better.

"Hwang Miyoung,"

Tiffany looked up, noticing that it was no longer the same woman asking her attendance. This time, it was a long, frail woman; her eyes sunken, her cheekbones prominent. It made Tiffany wonder if she needed to get better too, or if she was just a naturally thin woman.

She stood from her seat, dusting off nothing in particular from her jeans. She tries to put a hand in her pocket as she walked onwards, but when her hand wouldn't sink in, she realised that these _weren't_ her jeans. They were Jessica's, which normally shouldn't bother her, but these were the jeans she wore last week. The jeans she wore the same day she kissed another girl.

But did it make her uncomfortable?

No, not really.

In fact, she was a little envious that Jessica found it so simple to do what she does. Envious that Jessica could just face who she was, accept it, and even act on it.

But why was she envious?

She wasn't sure.

Before she knew it, she was in front of the door to Taeyeon's office.

She raised her fist, with the intention of tapping her knuckles against the hardened wood of the door. But before she could, she heard a noise. She looked left and right, making sure no one was watching her before leaning into the door.

She rested her ear against the door, the chilled wood making her ear a little numb on the edges.

And then she heard it, she heard it as clear as day.

She heard crying.

Thinking it was another patient still inside, she pulled away from the door, leaning against the wall and waiting.

But when the crying stopped, no one emerged. She became suspicious, wondering whether it was best to listen in again or not.

Ultimately, the devil on her shoulder won.

She lowered her head a little, leaning into the door. She heard it begin to open, and pulled away so she wouldn't get hit on the head again.

"Tiffany,"

She looked up, her eyes roaming over Taeyeon. Her normally deep brown eyes were bloodshot and puffy, bearing no resemblance to the eyes Tiffany had already become accustomed to. Her nose looked sore, as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper. Her bottom lip trembled, and the tendons in her neck constricted with every breath that she took, as if she was trying to keep herself under control.

"Are you okay?"

It slipped from her mouth before she could even process the thought, having no idea why it rolled off her tongue so easily.

Taeyeon seemed a little taken aback by her question, but she smiled nonetheless, waving it off as she opened the door wider so Tiffany could enter.

She took her usual seat on the leather couch, but she noticed Taeyeon sat differently this week. Where she would normally slouch or lean a little, she was now perfectly upright.

She didn't know why, but Tiffany felt uneasy by her position, as if Taeyeon was replaced by a lacklustre version of herself.

"So," Taeyeon started, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat, placing a hand against her throat. "How are you feeling since our last session?"

"Well," She took her hand away from the arm of the couch, palms beginning to feel clammy. "A little better than last week, I think."

"You think?"

"Uh, yeah," She nodded. "Yeah, I mean, I haven't had as many episodes this week."

Taeyeon hunched forward, folding her hands in her lap. She sat as she usually did, with a bored composure but interested expression.

It made Tiffany feel more at ease.

"What happens during your episodes?"

"I, um," She fidgeted with her bracelet, separating the beads between her fingers. "The world, it . . . It vibrates – sometimes even shakes – around me. I feel like the walls are cracking, like the floor is going to drop beneath my feet and I'm going to fall, fall and never get caught; like it's a bottomless pit, and there's no way of it ending, not unless I . . ."

She trailed off, her mind working too fast for her mouth. As she was describing it, it was happening in her head. She could see the walls quiver, feel the familiar dip in the ground begin to swallow her −

− But then Taeyeon's hand covers hers, bringing her back to reality.

"Hey, stay with me."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Pink dusted her cheeks; she looked down, trying to hide her blush, though she didn't take her hand away from Taeyeon's. The contact made her feel warm, feel somehow safe.

"I'm sorry."

Taeyeon removed her hand, her lips spreading into a smile.

"No need to apologise," She watched as Taeyeon chewed the inside of her cheek, as if she were debating with herself to speak. "Is . . . Is that why you hate losing control, because it scares you?"

Tiffany sighed, knowing the question needed to be answered sooner or later.

But she was hoping for later.

"What favour did you need to return?"

Upon hearing her question, Taeyeon shifted back to the way she was before. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes narrowing on the ring on her index finger. Tiffany mustn't have ever noticed it before, which was odd, considering the way she picks up on things. Then again, maybe she was just too focused on Taeyeon in general.

An exhale close to a laugh left the blonde, then a sniffle as she looked up.

Her eyes were glassy, and it was then that Tiffany felt a wave of grief wash over her, she had never wanted to make Taeyeon upset.

"When I was younger, I, uh," She sniffed, twirling the ring. It was a nice ring, though it didn't look like it had ever belonged to a female before. It was golden, with a square shaped onyx gem atop, and a small, circular diamond in the centre; it reminded Tiffany of something her grandfather would wear, as he was always into fine jewellery. "I wasn't exactly the happiest of people. A friend – a good friend – helped me out, made me happy again."

She mentally backtracked, not sure if she heard Taeyeon right. But the words wouldn't stop ringing in her head, so she must have said it. Tiffany didn't know whether it shocked her or not, after all, most psychologists would've had something or another that would drive them to pursue such a career.

But when she watched the waves of emotion crash over Taeyeon's face, she didn't know what to think anymore.

Taeyeon had had depression before – or at least, it sounded like she did. It made Tiffany wonder more about her, about what her life was like before, what it's actually like now. She wondered why she had depression, if it was the same reasons she did, or maybe other reasons altogether. Which could possibly mean she has a similar personality to her, or maybe it's quite the opposite.

Taeyeon smiled sadly at her, wiping the bottom of her eyes with her thumb.

Well, they say opposites attract.

"So, you've had depression too?"

Within seconds, playful Taeyeon was back. She clicked her tongue at Tiffany, a smirk on her face.

"One question at a time, Fany."

At the use of the nickname, Tiffany felt the heat rush to her face. A soft exhale left her lips, a smile rising upon her mouth.

 _Fany_ , she repeats in her mind, _I like it_.


	4. Change

Pink, green, red, blue.

She studied the colours, picking each one up in its vial before pursing her lips and putting it down again. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the pink once more, it wasn't the kind of pink she would normally go for, it wasn't bright or lively in any sense. It was a dull pink, the kind of pink that gets printed onto fake roses. She scrunched her nose up, putting the pink vial back down.

Next was the green, and while sometimes she would like a fluorescent colour, it seemed today was not the day. She put that vial down too; her only two options the red or the blue. It was quite the brain buster for Tiffany, as she is fond of both colours, but would rarely ever choose them. The red stared at her, almost yelling at her to buy it.

But Tiffany doesn't like yelling, so she picked up the blue vial, spinning it in her hands before showing it to Jessica.

"What do you think?" She asked, shaking the vial like hands of a clock.

Jessica tilted her head to the side, puffing her cheeks out. She threw her chocolate curls over her shoulder, raising a brow at her friend.

"I think it's odd."

"Why?"

"You never pick blue."

It's true, she never picked blue, she would almost always go for pink. But something was different about today, something good. Where blue would normally signify sadness, this particular shade was almost electric, and it made Tiffany grow fonder of it with every second that passed.

"I think it was about time I changed," She said, shrugging.

She dug into her purse, in search for her wallet. While she was scrounging for it, she ushered Jessica to go first so she could purchase her items. Once she eventually found it, she hurrahed, thrusting it into the air. She didn't need to see it, but she knew Jessica was shaking her head at her actions.

Once the items were bought, Tiffany caught up to Jessica and the two began to walk.

"So, had enough of shopping?"

Tiffany checked the time on her phone, noticing she had a missed call from her sister, and that they'd been shopping for over three hours. Suddenly, the weight from her bags caught up to her, her arms feeling heavier with each step she took – but it was the nice kind of heavy, a different kind of heavy than the one she's used to.

She held up her five bags with a tug in her lips, "I think it's enough for one day."

Jessica smiled at her, looping her free arm with Tiffany's. The two continued to walk like that, not exchanging words, because none were needed. Once they reached the car, however, Jessica held onto her arm, fingers digging into her jacket sleeve.

Tiffany turned to look at her, noticing Jessica had on her 'tough girl' look. Her nose was scrunched, her eyes squinted, and her glare icy.

"Tiff,"

"Yes?"

Jessica reached into one of Tiffany's bags, pulling out the blue vial. She held it next to her own head, jabbing it forward with each word she spoke.

"Promise me that if we do this, you won't scratch it off this time."

Tiffany smiled genuinely at her friend's concern for her, her heart swelling. She took the nail polish from Jessica's hand, tossing it in the air and catching it.

"I," She didn't know whether to finish or not, simply because she didn't know if she could keep that promise. Because by promising that, she's promising to not let her emotions get the better of her, and she wasn't sure she could do that just yet.

But it seemed whenever she was around certain people, she didn't feel like scratching at it at all. When she was with Jessica, she could only think of fun. When she's with her family, she could only think of love. And when she's with Taeyeon –

− Wait, Taeyeon?

Since when did the short blonde become that huge of a part in her life? Sure, she was her therapist, they saw each other once a week, and she had already given Tiffany a nickname. But surely she didn't already think of Taeyeon as _that_ close . . . Surely not.

But, when she is with Taeyeon, she feels somehow lighter. She feels as if the illnesses she has are there, but they're merely part of her shadow, something crouched onto the ground, something compact, something only visible when put under the limelight.

So, if she looks at it in that sense, it's not so much that she's _attached_ to Taeyeon; it's more that Taeyeon helps her. Which means, that as long as she can be around these few people as much as possible, then she won't feel the need to pick at her nails, or any other needs for that matter.

"I promise," She said, her eyes locked on the nail polish. She wondered if it was anyone's favourite colour, after all, she didn't know her father's or Jessica's preference.

* * *

Her thighs began to hurt, the idea of sitting cross-legged now seeming horrible. She glanced down at the shimmer of her nail polish, extending her fingers to get a better view. She definitely made the right choice, the colour looking even better on her nails.

"You have to remember our promise, though," Jessica muttered, eyeing her suspiciously. "Alright?"

Tiffany nodded, spinning her hand to see the colour from every angle. She nearly smiled at it; it was just so pretty, there was no way she was ever going to take it off any time soon.

"What time is it?"

Jessica looked up from her toes, stopping mid-stroke to crane her neck towards the clock in the kitchen. She bounced a little, too short to see over the countertop.

"I think," She bounced again. "Half past five, or around that. Why, who are you expecting?"

"Michelle wanted to come over for dinner tonight, if that's alright?"

Jessica snorted.

"Bit late now to ask, but of course it's fine," She smiled at Tiffany, blowing on her toes before standing up and walking towards the phone. "It seems in the midst of our shopping, we forgot to actually get groceries. So, it looks like we're having takeout tonight."

"Fine by me," Tiffany tapped her nails, checking if they were dry. "Just don't complain to me later on about your waist size when all this is over."

"Pfft, have you seen this waist?" Jessica boasted, lifted her baggy tee to show off her abs and waistline.

Tiffany laughed a little at Jessica, shaking her head.

"I'm sure Yuri loves it."

"You bet she does!" She said confidently, flicking her fringe out of her face before dialling the number.

* * *

Dinner went by swimmingly, the food was nice, Jessica didn't crack any jokes about Taeyeon, and Michelle hadn't once asked about her sessions. It was as if the night wasn't going to be uncomfortable at all.

That is, until the subject of relationships came up.

They were gathered around the table, the food long since forgotten, now replaced with a glass of wine for each girl. It was always a bad habit of Tiffany's to divulge a little _too much_ information when she's tipsy, and when significant others were brought up, she just couldn't help herself.

"You know, Michelle," She said, voice a little slurred. "Jessi has a girlfriend."

"Oh, do you now?" Her sister leant forward, ready to ask all the questions she had aimed and ready to fire.

"Yes, she certainly does, and you should see her too," She smiled big, whistling to emphasise how attractive Yuri was.

"I didn't know you were so observant on such things, Tiff."

"It's a little hard to miss a girl as gorgeous as her," She leant forward, towards her sister's ear. She giggled, hiccupped, before, "But Taeyeon is more gorgeous-er."

It was meant to be a whisper, but Jessica could hear her from the other end of the table. The brunette stood, her cheeks aflame as she grabbed Tiffany by the ear and dragged her towards her bedroom.

She opened the door, excusing herself and her friend as she slammed the door shut behind her. Once inside, she grappled Tiffany by the shoulders.

"What the hell?"

"Wh-What?"

Jessica sighed, loosening her grip. Tiffany could see that Jessica felt sorry for her, always having known there was a side to her that she never told anyone about, a side she was secretly yet not at all ashamed of.

The side of her that was not as straight as everyone thinks.

"I think you've had a bit too much to drink, Tiff."

Tiffany hummed a response, slouching against the wall. Her makeup smeared on the paint, red lipstick running downwards.

"Nuh uh, _you've_ had a bit too much, Jessi." She giggled, thrusting a finger against Jessica's collarbone.

"Oh, god," She heard her friend sigh, before opening the door. "Sorry Michelle, but I think you should go, Tiff's not really on her feet anymore."

She bubbled with giddiness, her chest felt warm and there was not a single bad thought in her head. Then, it struck her . . . She was happy.

Maybe drinking was the solution, maybe she could just get horrifically drunk every night and forget her problems, maybe that was the answer all along.

But as she feels her stomach churn, it's a completely different story.

She runs to the bathroom, leaning over the sink as her chest heaves with every breath she takes. She still buzzes, she's still bubbly, but now it's all settling in her throat, threatening to spill from her mouth unless she gets it under control.

She looks down, struggling to get a proper hold of the cold water tap – it's a little hard when everything is hazy. Once she figures it out, she splashes a handful of cold water over her face. It doesn't do as much as movies make it seem, all it does is make her nose a little numb, brain a little less fuzzy, chest a little less warm.

She stares at her reflection, enraptured with the blurry girl. She smiles, and the girl smiles back. She tries many different faces, each ending with her in a fit of giggles.

She loses her breath, and realises that she misses this feeling.

Misses her stomach hurting, misses her cheekbones straining, misses her shortage of breath; because for once, it's for all the right reasons.

* * *

She doesn't know how she came to be in her bed, figuring Jessica must've helped her out at some point. The pillows felt a lot comfier than they do any other morning, but maybe that's only because her head feels a lot heavier.

She sits up, the back of her eyes feeling like they've been set on fire. She rubbed and rubbed at them, but not once did it soothe the pain, it might have even worsened it. There's a dull throbbing in her head, a light strumming in her nose, and an insatiable need for food growling in her stomach.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she cautiously stands up, hoping she won't trip as she makes her way to the kitchen.

She passes Jessica along the way, who is sitting on the couch with a smile on her face. She pays no mind to it, muttering a _good morning_ and continuing her way towards the toaster.

It was always said that toast helps with a hangover, but at this point in time, the only cure she can see is another drink. It must be detrimental, of course, but it's the only thing she could think would postpone all the pain coursing through her mind.

The toaster pops, revealing the black crust and brown centre. Tiffany sighs, taking the toast out and leaving it on the bench – she'll put it in the bin on her way to the lounge.

"You know, Jessi," She started, putting another slice of bread into the toaster. "We should really get a dog or something, just to eat our scraps."

"I was thinking the same thing, but if you want someone to eat your burnt toast, Yuri is good for that."

Tiffany's eyes widened as she realised Jessica was not alone on the couch, but in fact had a girl's arm wrapped around her shoulders. What made it even worse, was when Yuri turned around, smiling at her appearance.

"Tiffany, right?"

She nodded, smoothing out her hair as best she could. She thanked the heavens when she felt suitable clothing on her body, a simple tee and shorts. It made her a little less self-conscious, but only a little.

She buttered the old and new toast, fixing herself a strawberry milk along the way. She handed the burnt slice to Yuri, cringing as she heard the loud crunching and cracking of it being bitten into.

"You actually like toast like that?"

The girl shrugged, swallowing before speaking, "I don't mind it. I mean, food is food, you shouldn't waste it."

Tiffany nodded.

The air between the three wasn't awkward, nor uncomfortable, but suddenly Tiffany had the urge to pick at the blue coating her nails. But before she could, Jessica spoke.

"Aren't you running a little late?"

"Huh?" She tilted her head, looking at the clock. She jumped up from the couch, stumbling and running towards her bedroom to get dressed. She most definitely was running late, normally she was on the way to her appointment by now. "Shit, shit, shit."

* * *

She bursted through the door of Taeyeon's office, her breath leaving her in short, ragged puffs of air. She fixed her hair slightly, scuffing her shoe along the floor as she looked up. But what she saw wasn't the short little doctor slumped over in her chair, wasn't her sitting casually, wasn't her doing anything of that sort.

This time, it was Taeyeon sitting at her desk, holding the ring between her fingers.

This time, she didn't hear the crying.

This time, she saw it.


	5. That Ring

Tiffany stood, still, frozen, almost like a statue. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she took a quiet step forward, hoping not to disturb Taeyeon.

But the psychologist looked up from the ring, her eyes locking on Tiffany's as she sat at her desk.

"Tiffany," Her voice was hoarse, gravelly even. It made Tiffany worry further, so she took another step forward, now she could really see what Taeyeon was like. Her normally bright eyes had disappeared, turning into a storm of onyx, like a tornado had torn through her irises. Her cheeks were stained with tears, wet lines streaming down to her chin. Her bottom lip quivered, like she was still trying to fight the urge to cry.

Tiffany took another step, but when Taeyeon looked up at her with big eyes, she knew it was the last step she was going to take for now.

She wanted to reach out to the blonde, wanted to comfort her. But when she looked down at her feet, she realised she was only just in front of the couch, which was a good five steps away from Taeyeon. So, she went with the option that seemed simplest.

She sat on the couch, waiting for Taeyeon to acknowledge her before patting the spot next to her.

Taeyeon looked at her, though Tiffany could not pinpoint her expression. It was similar to nervousness, she guessed; with glassy eyes, shaking hands and bottom lip caught between her teeth. She hesitated, looking like she was going to step forward, but then thinking twice about it.

Tiffany realised that the quicker they get the reason for Taeyeon's crying out in the open, the sooner she'll feel comfortable enough to sit next to her. So, with a shaky inhale, Tiffany asked the question she'd been dying to since she entered the room.

"Are you okay?"

Taeyeon looked up from her feet, and Tiffany was almost certain she watched the blonde's pupils get smaller.

"I'm . . ." She started, but couldn't continue. Tiffany watched as Taeyeon had an internal battle with herself, watched as the trepidation and hesitance flowed over her face. A sigh left the blonde as her feet picked up, dragging herself towards the couch. She sat next to Tiffany, though she did not look at her.

Tiffany saw her twisting the ring on her finger; saw the way the sunlight from the windows made it shine. She wanted to know where the ring came from, who owned it. Because, if she knew that, then she'd know more about Taeyeon.

Not that she wanted to know more.

Just when the reflection of the sun hit Tiffany in the eye, Taeyeon looked up, folding her palms together, hiding the ring from her view.

"Do you really want to know, Tiffany?"

The question hit her like a slap to the chest, and she might've been irritated by it, but at the moment, there's nothing she wants to know more.

"Of course," She replied, managing to tear her eyes away from Taeyeon's hands. Her gaze rested on the girl's face, noticing a few of her blonde strands were out of place. She had the urge to thread them behind her ear, to cup her face in her hands, to reassure her in some way. "So, tell me."

But she fights the urge, shaking her palms out to get rid of the anticipation and tingling.

Taeyeon bites her lip, as if wondering whether to tell her or not. And she understands, she'd definitely be tentative about it too. But they've known each other for four weeks; surely they could tell each other things.

"This . . . This has to be between us only, okay?"

Tiffany raises a brow, not fully understanding.

"Ever heard of Doctor-Patient Confidentiality?"

"Um, I think so."

"It just means that whatever happens in here, stays in here." She says, and Tiffany can't help but allow her thoughts to wander onto what else could happen in here.

Maybe she and Taeyeon could be friends; maybe they could become close enough that once Tiffany had gotten better, they could remain in contact. She'd like that; she'd like having someone as understanding as Taeyeon in her life.

"So, what I'm about to tell you, you can't tell anyone else."

It brings her out of her thoughts, brings her back to reality; the reality where Taeyeon is nothing more than her psychologist, nothing more than someone who is going to help her get better.

"I do have one condition, though," She continued. "I'd like us to keep the same rule, you know, where if I get uncomfortable I can ask you something."

Tiffany nodded, it seemed fair enough.

"Now, answer my question from before." She said, turning to face the girl completely. She crossed her legs, knowing she'll regret it later, but for now, it's comfy.

"To be honest," Taeyeon sighed. It was a heavy sigh, one filled with pent-up emotion that spilled from her lips. "No. No, I'm not okay."

"Why aren't you okay?"

"Because, it's starting to get bad again."

 _Bad again_. It was a phrase Tiffany had used before as well, and it was all too familiar as it rolled off someone else's tongue.

"How is it getting bad again?"

"I just," She saw Taeyeon's hands clench, saw them turn into fists. "It's hard, you know? Waking up, coming to work . . . Living."

"You find living hard?"

Taeyeon shook her head.

"I don't know, it's not so much living that's hard," She twisted the ring on her finger, revealing the engraved script on the inside. Tiffany couldn't read it from how far away she was, but she desperately wanted to figure out more about it. "It's more . . . Living without happiness."

"You're not happy?"

Taeyeon laughed; it was shallow, shallow enough that you could hear how sad she was behind it. When she looked back up, Tiffany watched the tears well up in her eyes.

It made her want to hug the girl, made her want to stroke her hair, tell her she'll be okay as she holds her tightly.

But she realises that that isn't the most appropriate thing to do with someone you've barely known for a month.

"Why do you hate losing control, Tiffany?"

Tiffany's eyes flickered, knowing she should've seen that question coming. It seemed it was about time to answer it, but no matter how hard she tried, her mouth just wouldn't allow her to.

She looked down, her thumb nail on top of the other. She wanted to scratch at the nail polish, wanted to scratch it all away, scratch all the pain and fear out of her.

"I don't like losing control because," She dug in the nail, ready to scratch away the first hint of blue. But she promised Jessica she wouldn't, so she takes her hands away from each other, one on each side of her. "Because when I lose control, I'm not myself."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean," She actually had no idea what she meant, no idea how to explain it to someone that wasn't her. "When I lose control, it's like everything changes. Like, the world I know around me shifts, becomes something foreign."

"And you don't like when everything changes?"

"Does anyone?"

Taeyeon's lips tugged up, just in the slightest, but Tiffany saw it. It made her feel calmer, like a shred of the Taeyeon she knew was back.

"No, I guess not."

"Can I ask a question now?"

"If you want to."

Tiffany pursed her lips, looking down at the ring once more.

"Why do you always twirl that ring when you're nervous?"

Taeyeon's eyes widened, an amused breath escaping her.

"I didn't know I did that," She mused, putting the ring back on. "I guess it's just a habit, the person who owned the ring before me used to do it as well, so I guess I picked it up from them."

"Who used to own it?"

"The good friend I told you about, the one that helped me."

"Why don't they own it anymore?"

It seemed that was enough for Taeyeon, her posture shifting. Her shoulders hunched, and she looked like she had shrunken into herself.

"Why don't you like when everything changes?"

But Tiffany had had enough of the mind games for one day, too. She so desperately wanted to pick at her nails, to scratch at it, to do _something_ to calm herself. But, all that happened was another question.

"What's your favourite colour, Taeyeon?"

A surprised expression passed over Taeyeon's face, her brows knitting together, as if she were trying to figure Tiffany out.

After a few seconds of silence, a smile broke out on her face. It was only a small smile, but it was enough to make Tiffany grin back at her.

"Blue," She said, her demeanour changing back into what Tiffany was used to. She rested an arm on the back of the couch, and for some reason unknown to her, Tiffany was all too aware of how close Taeyeon's hands were to her. "Electric blue."

* * *

She sat with her hands in her lap, her face inclined towards the TV. The colours and flashing lights portrayed upon her features, as if she were immersed in the show that was on.

But of course, she wasn't.

She simply phased everything out, getting lost in a world of her own. Today, the topic of her mind seemed to be _what if_ s. At least thirty scenarios had gone through her head, ranging from what if Jessica wasn't her friend, all the way to what would happen if she was in a relationship.

Relationships were always something that Tiffany had on her mind, but it was always shoved to the very back, something irrelevant to her. After all, who would want to date someone like her? Technically, she _isn't_ exactly a stable person to be around.

Dating had always been something that interested her, though she had never had all that much experience. In high school, she had had a boyfriend or two; kissed a few people (she and Jessica even experimented for a few months). But she had never had any real feelings for anyone, never a strong connection, never what they talk about in books. In books, people are meant to feel something so strong that it physically tugs at their being, something that makes their mind fizz and blood bubble.

Tiffany had never even come close to that, sometimes she even wondered if such feelings existed. Surely they do . . . Surely. Maybe she just hasn't found the right person yet.

Then again, Tiffany has always been the type to deny her feelings for people.

"Tiff, are you home?"

The sound of the door and Jessica's voice filled her ears, bringing her out of her daze. She shifted upwards on the couch, hoping it seemed like she was watching TV the whole time.

"In the lounge, Jessi." She hollered back, flicking the channel to something believable.

Jessica flopped down onto the beanbag in front of her, turning so she was the centre of Tiffany's attention.

"What's up?"

The brunette shrugged, her head now completely in the way of whatever channel Tiffany had left it on.

"Just wanted to catch up, I haven't seen you much these past couple days. What have you been doing?"

Tiffany bit her lip, looking at her nail polish. She hadn't scratched any off yet, and whether that was because she promised Jessica or because it was Taeyeon's favourite colour, she did not know.

"I've been here, just hanging out. Michelle called me about an hour ago, actually."

"How was it?"

"She, uh," Tiffany threaded some of her hair behind her ear, laughing at herself. "She asked if I was an alcoholic, because of how I was the other night."

Jessica laughed so hard her body hit the floor.

"It's not funny, Jessi!" She yelled, defending herself. Though she couldn't hold it in much longer, and soon she was laughing along with Jessica. "Please tell me I wasn't as bad as she said I was."

"Actually," Jessica smirked, heaving herself forward on the beanbag to be closer to her friend. "You complimented Yuri's figure −"

"That's not too bad."

"I wasn't done," Jessica put her hands to her mouth, amplifying her voice. "You said Taeyeon was _more gorgeous-er_ than Yuri."

Her jaw felt like it had unhinged, unable to believe she had actually said something like that.

She continued to watch Jessica laughing, noticing how she tried to clap at how amusing the situation was – but for some reason, her friend had always had this inability to clap like a normal human.

"I didn't say that, did I?"

"You don't remember?" Jessica asked, wiping a tear from her eye. When Tiffany shook her head, the brunette sat up straight, rubbing her upper arm awkwardly. "Oh, well, yeah . . . You did say that."

Tiffany threw her head into her hands, her cheeks flushing beyond her favourite colour. She couldn't believe she had admitted . . . Couldn't believe she had said such a thing to her sister. It's not like she even found Taeyeon _that_ attractive; sure, she was cute, but she was cute in the kind of way a puppy was.

Oh, who was she kidding?

She was definitely attracted to Taeyeon; there really was no denying it any longer. But that's all it was, simple attraction. There were no butterflies in her stomach, no zinging electricity from her touch, nothing like that.

Though, she wondered if there even needed to be any of that.

"Please, just tell me I didn't say anything more than that." She begged, peeking between her fingers to look at Jessica.

"Not that I can think of. Although, while I was helping you into your bed, you did mutter some things."

"Oh god," She rubbed along her face, taking a deep breath before folding her hands together in her lap. "What did I say?"

"You told me that you really like Taeyeon, or _Taetae_ , as you called her. I asked what you meant by that, but all you did was tell me to shush and that I was asking too many questions." Jessica laughed under her breath. "And then you laughed at yourself before falling asleep; it was quite amusing actually."

"Yeah, hilarious."

"So," She trailed off in a singsong voice, bringing herself closer to Tiffany, though never leaving the comfort of the beanbag. She leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees, chocolate waves spilling over her shoulders and chest. "I'll ask you now, what did you mean by liking Taetae?"

"Ugh, I really don't even know what my drunken brain thinks."

"Don't play dumb with me, Hwang. You and I both know that when you're drunk, you really let the truth slip out. Now, answer me truthfully, what did you mean by that?"

"I can't have feelings for her, Jessi, I barely know her."

It was true; she didn't know much about Taeyeon. She thought back to it, and while she may know some things, it was not enough to have feelings for her. Maybe it was enough to make someone intrigued, but no more than that.

"Well, what do you know about her?"

"Not enough to like her."

Jessica smiled playfully, "That's not going to convince me."

Tiffany decided to parry, knowing she was always better off on the offensive.

"How much do you know about Yuri?"

"We are so _not_ playing this game, Tiff." Jessica warned, wagging a finger. "Just answer me; you'll know it'll help."

"Her last name is Kim, she has some sort of attachment to a ring she wears, she used to have depression," Tiffany trailed off, her nose crinkling as a soft smile crossed her face. "And her favourite colour is electric blue."

"Hmm," Jessica tapped her chin, her brows furrowing. "Would you like to know more about her?"

"No . . ."

"Tiff,"

"Okay, fine." She threw her hands in the air. "Yes, I want to know more. She just seems so caring, like, even though she's shut out from the world, she's so immersed in it. She has a total disregard for the rules, and I want to know why that is. I want to know about her depression and how she got through it. And for God's sake I want to know more about that damn ring."

"What is so important about the ring, Tiff?"

"It . . . She," She took a breath, trying to calm herself from the outburst. She doesn't even know why she snapped like that, or what had even set her off. "She's attached to it, like, really attached. I just . . . I want to know what is so deserving of her time, attention and devotion."

"Is that because _you_ want to know if you can meet those standards?"

The question sunk deep into her mind, sticking itself to the very front of her thoughts. She clasped her hands together, fighting the desire to pick at her nails. She bit her lip, deep within herself, deep in thought.

She didn't answer Jessica, but it seems she didn't need to.

"You know, Tiff, you really should stop fighting with yourself." Her friend was suddenly next to her, holding her left hand, lacing their fingers. "It's always better to just admit things straight away instead of bottling them up."

Tiffany nodded, although she just _couldn't_ agree with Jessica.

Sometimes, bottling things up is the only answer.


	6. Her Specialty

Bottling things up was Tiffany's specialty.

Ever since she was a child, she had gained the habit. Her first encounter was when she was four years old, and a girl from her kindergarten had tugged on her pigtails, telling her she was ugly. She, of course, retaliated – by kicking the girl in the shin and telling her that she was a meanie.

Her mother had scolded her that day, telling her that if someone was being like that, the best way to solve the problem would be to ignore them.

So she did; the next time the girl picked on her, Tiffany just stuck her tongue out, turned her head away and continued to make her sandcastle. And forty minutes later, when she knocked down the castle, all Tiffany did was walk away, hiding the hurt.

For the next eighteen years, she stuck to that motto.

 _"Just keep it in, hold it in."_

It was now her way of life. When she was diagnosed with OCD, she held it in; when she was told she had anxiety, she kept it in; when she realised the cause of her depression, she kept her mouth shut; and when she realised there was a possibility of her liking her psychologist –

− Well, let's just say she's good at bottling things up.

Even now, as she sits across from Jessica and Yuri, watching them watch the TV; even as her chest pangs with jealousy as her best friend's head rests on Yuri's lap; even as she imagines herself and Taeyeon in such an intimate position, she bottles it up.

Because when she doesn't bottle things up, she gets herself into trouble. There had been times where she lost her cool and hadn't kept it in, times that ended with detentions, beatings, and heartbreak. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to go through that all over again.

So, she keeps her mouth shut. And when Jessica notices that she's looking at her, the two just smile at each other, returning their attention towards the drama on TV.

* * *

But, then again, sometimes things are incredibly hard to bottle up.

Especially when she's finally admitted to herself and Jessica that her feelings could grow into something more. Especially when she sits across from an enchanted Taeyeon, who bites her lip while raising an eyebrow at Tiffany.

Especially as she realises that her voice has died in her throat, taking residency somewhere inside her brain that is too far away from coherent thought.

She flicks her fringe out of her face, well; really she's shaking her head to get rid of the thoughts in her mind.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

An amused exhale leaves Taeyeon's nose, and it makes Tiffany wonder what the blonde's real laugh sounds like. She has a feeling its pretty, with the same sort of melodic tone as her voice.

"I said: maybe we should skip counselling today."

"Um," Tiffany didn't know what to think of that. She looked downwards, shuffling her feet. It had become her new habit, as she didn't want to pick at her nail polish anymore – not when her electric blue polish was still two thirds full. "Don't you lose your job for that?"

Taeyeon leant forward, her elbows resting on her knees; hands folded together, hanging in the air. Her hair didn't spill over her shoulders today, because the blonde strands were up in a loose ponytail, her fringe peeking out from a black and white bandana. The bandana suited her, oddly enough, just like how the spark in her eyes suited her, like it didn't belong, but it fit so well.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," She started, a smirk rising on her lips. Tiffany noticed that when Taeyeon smiles, her nose crinkles a little where her laugh lines meet, and her bottom lip veers slightly to the left. It was cute, really, _really_ cute. "Rules were made to be broken."

"You really enjoy breaking the rules, don't you?" Tiffany wondered aloud.

She feels like she should regret the question, but when Taeyeon's eyes meet hers, she doesn't. Not when she feels like she's falling into the russet orbs, becoming so lost in them that she feels like not even an entire rescue crew would be able to find her.

"But, Fany," Taeyeon starts, a devilish smile crossing her face. It's in these moments that Taeyeon seems most real, most human, like she's being herself without any hesitance. Its then, that Tiffany realises she doesn't regret her question at all. "It's when you're breaking the rules that you have the most fun."

"Okay," She nods, simply because her brain can't send enough signals for her to do anything else.

Taeyeon fiddles her fingers, only slightly, but enough for Tiffany to catch. It makes her wonder what the girl is thinking about, makes her wonder if she ever thinks the same things she does.

"So, what do you say, want to break a rule or two?"

"I . . . Yeah, I," She huffs, disappointed in herself with how nervous she's getting – especially when nothing has even happened yet. "Yeah."

"Good," Taeyeon leans back into her seat, hands resting either side of the seat's arms. "I was thinking we take the day off from counselling and all those questions I know you hate, and do something more fun."

"Like what?"

"Like, what's _your_ favourite colour?"

Tiffany was confused, tilting her head. She soon realised what Taeyeon's intentions were; that to get her to trust Taeyeon, they'll have to get to know each other more. Which was fine with her, absolutely fine.

"Its pink," Tiffany said, holding up her left hand. The nails were painted pink, unlike the ones on the right, which were painted the blue she was so fond of. "But surely you have better questions to ask than that. I mean, if you want to get to know me, you're going to have to do better, Taeyeon."

"Ooh, you were quick to figure me out, maybe you should be a cop."

Tiffany pursed her lips, "Too messy, I'll save that for another lifetime where I'm braver."

"Ah, so you're a coward."

"Nuh uh," She denied, crossing her arms. "I mean, I'm scared of bugs. But who in their right mind isn't?"

Taeyeon laughs, her eyes lighting up. It was most definitely not the laugh Tiffany had expected. This laugh was bellowing, and came quite close to her grandmother's laugh. Then again, it was just like the bandana and the spark, oddly fitting.

"Oh, yes, all brave people are scared of bugs." She mused.

Tiffany leant over the couch, slapping her on the arm lightly.

"I can be brave if I want to," She defended, standing up fully and puffing her chest out.

"Oh yeah?"

Taeyeon stood from her chair, also puffing her chest dramatically.

"Yeah," Tiffany took a step forward, trying to prove her point and make Taeyeon back away.

But the blonde didn't budge. In fact, she took a step also, only mere centimetres away from Tiffany.

"Prove it."

The two had since stopped puffing out their chests, and Tiffany couldn't help but notice this is the closest she's ever been to Taeyeon. She was so close that she could make out the soft lines on the edges of her eyes, so close that she could see something swirling inside her eyes that she couldn't decipher, so close that she could sense herself moving in inch by inch.

She felt her cheeks heat up, and just like any other humiliated person, she reacted justly.

She brought her hands up to Taeyeon's shoulders, fingers curling around the therapist's jacket lapels.

And then, she pushed.

She giggled as she watched Taeyeon's unfocused and confused expression, her hand coming up to her mouth to keep herself quiet.

She sat back onto the leather couch, still giggling as Taeyeon cleared her throat and twirled her ring.

"Was I brave enough for you?"

"You," Taeyeon began, but she was flushed. And although Tiffany didn't know why, she enjoyed seeing Taeyeon this way, enjoyed that she was alive and smiling. "Yes, you're extremely brave – happy now?"

"Yes," She smiled smugly. "Quite."

Taeyeon smiled, a snigger leaving her lips. Tiffany watched with greedy eyes, her gaze roaming over the way the blonde's lips tugged up, the way her fringe would fall in front of her eyes, the way her hands came up to her mouth to stifle her amusement.

She watched her mouth move, and it wasn't until Taeyeon raised a brow that she realised the psychologist had spoken to her.

"Eh?"

"Wow, you're really out of it today, even more so than usual."

"Sorry," She said, dropping her head.

"No need to apologise, all I said was that it's your turn."

"My turn?"

"Well, we can't exactly play fairly if I ask all the questions."

"Oh, of course." She wracked her brain for a question, for anything at all. But all that came out was, "What do you think of me?"

Taeyeon was taken aback, her eyes widening and fingers curling slightly. Tiffany couldn't help but notice the hesitation in her eyes, realising it may not have been the best question to ask.

Taeyeon cleared her throat, tightening the knot of the bandana.

"Professionally speaking: you're one of the most interesting patients I've ever had."

"Oh," Tiffany couldn't help but feel a little let down, disappointed even.

"But, personally speaking," She looked up, just in time to see a soft smile rise on her face. "I think you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met," She then watched her nose twitch, and she wondered why it did that. "And I would love to know more . . . If you'd let me, of course."

Tiffany looked down, not because she was embarrassed, not because she was blushing madly.

But because for the first time since being re-diagnosed with depression, she smiled.

The kind of smiles that you only saw in her childhood photos, where her eyes turned to slits, yet you could still see the brightness shine through them. And when she looked back up at Taeyeon, she was still smiling.

And when she saw Taeyeon smiling back, she was almost certain that it was contagious.

* * *

Opening the door to her apartment, she slinked inside quietly, just in case Jessica was in the middle of something. She padded over towards the fridge, desperate for something to soothe her dry throat. It's been dry since her session, since she got just a little _too_ close to Taeyeon.

She opened the fridge, grabbing the jug of chilled water before scouring for a cup.

She thought back to her session today, thought back to how much she learnt about Taeyeon, thought back to how close they were . . . So close it could almost seem intimate.

"You're overflowing."

The voice brought her out of her stupor, and soon she felt cold wetness seep into her socks. She groaned, taking her socks off and searching for a cloth to wipe up the leftover water.

She looked up, finding Jessica staring at her. She was clad in her pyjama pants and a loose tee, and Tiffany laughed softly, wondering why Jessica never bothered to wear the matching top.

"Why are you so smiley?"

Tiffany hadn't noticed she was smiling at all, raising her hands to her face to feel her lips. She was smiling, indeed, smiling widely.

"I, um," She stammered, trying to grasp at the right words for how she felt, or for what happened today.

Jessica laughed, a nice, warm laugh, one that made Tiffany remember why she was her best friend. The brunette pulled up a seat at the kitchen bench, patting the seat next to her.

Tiffany slid onto the seat, feeling a little fidgety under Jessica's stare.

"So, by the looks of that smile – one I haven't seen in ages, by the way – I'm guessing you found out more about Taeyeon."

"Damn," Tiffany sighed. "You're good."

"I just know you." Jessica shrugged. "So, what did you find out?"

"She has a brother, and if you weren't gay, I'd totally recommend him to you." She joked, wiggling her eyebrows at a scoffing Jessica. "She has a cute little puppy named Ginger; her favourite month is June, because she likes to see how people develop halfway through the year. Her birthday is the ninth of March, though she doesn't like to celebrate it as much as she used to. If she could have a superpower, she would like to have the ability to freeze time, because she wants to be able to catch the moments where people important to her are most happy and imprint it into her memory. She loves swimming at night, but hates being cold. Her favourite flowers are lilies, but she doesn't have an explanation as to why they are her favourite. Something memorable from her childhood was her father buying her a chocolate milk every morning before she woke up, and he would leave it on the kitchen table with a blue straw and a note signed with a row of X's. And she finds me to be one of the most interesting people she's ever met."

"Wow, that's," Jessica raised her brows, nodding her head. "That's a lot to learn in one day."

"Yeah, but it was fun, you know?" Tiffany looked down at her hands, and for the first time in months, she didn't feel an ounce of need to pick at her nails. "I like getting to know her."

"I think what you mean is, you like _her_."

Tiffany looked back up, trying to hold it in, trying to keep in the feelings that were beginning to bloom in the pit of her stomach.

Instead, she poked her tongue out at her friend.

"Shut up." She said playfully, getting up from the chair and heading towards her bedroom.

Once inside, she leaned against her door, sighing with a smile on her face as she flounced towards her bed.

She flopped down onto it, her eyes darting from the photos on her feature wall, to the blankness of the white ceiling above. She wondered if one day, Taeyeon could be in some of those photos.

If one day, they could lay side by side with smiles just as big as Tiffany's is now, staring up at the same ceiling.

Right now, as her chest fluttered and her mind flooded with hopes, she wondered if bottling things up was her specialty at all.


	7. A Bowl of Fries

Her breathing was regular, though a little more hastened than usual; her chest rising slightly with each breath she took as she watched the second hand tick on the analogue clock. It was mounted on the wall above Taeyeon's desk, the pristine glass reflecting the sun's rays, shining in her eyes.

She wasn't counting down minutes, nor seconds, nor hours.

She was just looking for a distraction.

The problem she's been facing lately is the inability to tear her eyes away from Taeyeon; it was almost like a chore. She thought she had everything under control, she thought she could stay in denial for just a little while longer. But then Taeyeon would smile that adorable smile at her, her eyes would twinkle with mischievousness, and her fringe would fall over her eyes, just enough to make her look devious; just enough to make Tiffany's heart pound just that little bit quicker.

When she was a child, distractions were easy to find. But it seems that as you grow up, the distractions cull themselves, waking you to your senses and showing you what exactly is on your mind.

And when Tiffany lets her eyes drift ever so slowly away from the ticking hands of the clock, she's drawn right back into the blissful oblivion of one Kim Taeyeon.

She sighs, not heavily or with ill feeling; she just sighs, simply because it was the only unsuspicious way of ridding herself of the giddiness pooling in her chest as Taeyeon bit her lower lip in concentration.

She wanted to know what the blonde was concentrating so hard about, wanted to know what deserved such adamant attention from the beauty.

She wanted to know if maybe, just maybe, she flitted across Taeyeon's mind for a split moment.

But the moment was soon over, and Taeyeon was once again flicking her now too long fringe out of her eyes, releasing her bottom lip.

Tiffany looked at the clock again, it had nearly been fifty four minutes since her session started, and not once had they talked about any of her conditions.

Today, they had just talked. They talked of family, talked of likes and dislikes, talked of anything that made Taeyeon think Tiffany was more comfortable around her.

Unbeknownst to Taeyeon, though, Tiffany has been comfortable since day one.

It was then that the silence was broken by Taeyeon sniggering to herself, and it made Tiffany arch a brow at the sight.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing." Taeyeon replies, clearly suppressing the urge to smile.

"C'mon, Tae," She says, knowing that the blonde can't refuse her when she uses that nickname. It was relatively new, as it occurred at the end of their last session. It had simply slipped out of Tiffany's mouth, and Taeyeon hadn't corrected nor reprimanded her for its use; so it was only natural that it stuck.

"Well, if I tell you, will you get weirded out?"

Tiffany's nose crinkles.

"Of course not."

"You're pretty when you space out."

She muttered it so quietly that Tiffany nearly missed it, nearly missed the soft tone, the sincere eyes.

But she definitely didn't miss her heart racing.

"My, my, Taeyeon; if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're breaking some rules by letting that slip."

Taeyeon bites back a smile, her nose twitching. Tiffany still wonders why it does that.

"Do you want to break some more?"

"How many more?" She asks haphazardly, wondering whether the sentence was meant to sound as suggestive as it did.

But then she sees the wary look on Taeyeon's face, and she realises the girl had the same worries as her.

"As many as you're willing, I guess."

"Hmm, let's see." She says, tapping her finger on her chin. "Well, we've already broken one. So, I'd say you have two left."

"Ah, so you're a genie now too." The blonde joked with a wink, and if she didn't know better, Tiffany could've sworn she saw something different in Taeyeon's eyes.

Tiffany just smiled back, unable to control her words anymore.

"Your wish is my command."

Taeyeon laughs, the laugh that makes it hard for Tiffany to deny anything anymore.

"In that case," Taeyeon turns, craning her head to look at the clock. "It's time for your session to end, but I want you to wait in the lobby for me."

"What?"

"I _wish_ for you to wait for me, genie."

* * *

Tiffany bobbed up and down on the balls of her feet, taking a deep breath to compose herself. It wasn't like Taeyeon had asked her on a date, so why is she feeling this way?

Her stomach feels heavy, her heart pounding against her ribs, her mind fuzzes over. It's almost as if she was intoxicated, but unfortunately, it's with something that refuses to wear off.

She hears footsteps _clack_ harmlessly on the staircase nearby, and watches as Taeyeon coolly walks towards her.

The lobby is practically empty, only three to four people other than them walk with destinations in mind. Thinking it was safe, she approached the blonde without hesitation, a smile on her face.

"So, how did you manage to break _this_ rule?"

"I didn't break any rules," Taeyeon said, twirling a lock of hair to feign innocence. "I simply told my boss that I was going on my lunch break early today."

"Ah, I see."

"Yeah, so, as long as no one sees us together, we should be−"

Tiffany was about to ask Taeyeon why she stopped talking, but the blonde had already dragged her underneath the stairs, clamping a hand over her mouth.

Tiffany fought against her grip, but Taeyeon only held tighter, pointing upwards.

She looked up briefly, briefly enough to see one of Taeyeon's co-workers clambering up the steps.

But it was only briefly, because she noticed how close she and Taeyeon were.

They were only a breath apart, Taeyeon slightly behind her while the majority of her chest was against her right shoulder. Tiffany tried not to sigh at the sensation of Taeyeon's heart beating so erratically against her shoulder blade, as the cause of it was clearly the fact that they nearly got caught; but a part of her was hoping it was beating like that for the same reasons as hers.

But that only made her wish Taeyeon _couldn't_ feel hers.

The floral scent of Taeyeon's perfume practically flew around her, flowing into her nostrils seamlessly, and she became hooked after one intake of breath. The hand clamped around her mouth smelt vaguely of vanilla body wash, and she couldn't help but let her thoughts wander at that.

But they were just so close, so _damn_ close that it was frustrating Tiffany. So close that she could feel Taeyeon's hot exhales crashing against the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

She wanted so desperately for this moment to end, to be rid of this unwarranted teasing.

But somehow, she couldn't help but feel disappointed when Taeyeon's hand left her mouth, and the final breath hurtled down her nape.

"We should go," Taeyeon whispers, voice so low that Tiffany nearly whimpered. "Before anyone else comes by."

She simply nods, purely because it's the only thing she can remember how to do.

* * *

Something as natural as walking should be completely simple; after all, it's just left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.

But when it's just her and Taeyeon, Tiffany is beginning to find it extremely hard to remember which foot comes next.

Her mind is racing with possibilities, most of them implausible, but nevertheless, she thinks of them. She wonders why Taeyeon takes her out today, wonders if it's another crazy trust exercise, wonders if it has to do with her being as interesting as Taeyeon thinks she is.

Is this the way Taeyeon wants to learn more about her?

She doesn't have time to answer her own question.

"C'mon, over here."

She follows Taeyeon, watches the way the curve of her back moves side to side as she walks, the way her little feet shuffle on the ground before they pick up, the slight snap in her hips with each step she takes.

But then Taeyeon stops, and if it weren't for the fact that Tiffany had nearly forgotten how to walk, she would've bumped into her.

Taeyeon offers her a small smile as she opens the door to an establishment she hadn't noticed until now, allowing her to go inside first.

Chivalry was something Tiffany had always loved.

Her eyes rake over the interior, and she almost instantly recognizes it as a 60s themed diner. She didn't know if she'd mentioned how much she loved this era of culture to Taeyeon or not, but a part of her was hoping the blonde went off a gut feeling when she took her here.

It seemed Taeyeon knew the place well, as she had already escorted her to a booth and told her to sit down.

The leather of the seat was chilled against her back, the feeling spreading throughout her entire spine as she continued to take in the look of the diner.

There was a jukebox against the back wall, a tune of what Tiffany recognized as _The Beatles_ playing softly; rows upon rows of booths laid against each wall, each seat coated in fiery red leather; the floor was littered with black and white tiles, somewhat resembling a chessboard.

Tiffany smiled unknowingly.

"I, uh," Taeyeon murmurs, clearing her throat as she slides a menu towards Tiffany. "I hope you like it here; it was the first place I could think of."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, you don't like it."

Taeyeon slinks a little into her seat, her shoulders hunching as a small frown passes along the seam of her lips.

"Taeyeon," She says, tucking a stray red hair behind her ear. She taps the blonde on the shoulder to bring her out of her sulking. "I love it."

A small smile flitters over Taeyeon's features, her eyes lighting up. It only lasts for a second, but Tiffany catches it.

"Good."

A waitress walks towards them, taking a notepad and pen out of her apron pocket. She beams widely at them, her teeth as bright as her bleached hair.

"Hi Taeng, the usual?"

Tiffany glances at Taeyeon, realising she must come here a lot to be on a first name basis with the staff. It makes her wonder how many times she's been here, and with whom.

"Yes, please."

The waitress turns her attention to Tiffany, and its then that she realises the girl is quite pretty. She's got the stereotypical athletic build, with toned curves and defined arms; but her hair is elegant, flowing down past her shoulders in waves. She has multiple piercings in both her ears, and what seems to be a remnant of a piercing on the right side of her nose.

"And what would your _friend_ here like?"

She has a tongue piercing too, Tiffany noticed, the blue sphere tapping against the back of her teeth as she talked.

"Um," It dawned on her that she hadn't even glanced at the menu yet, that she was too caught up in her surroundings and the music and of course, too caught up in Taeyeon. "I'll have a bowl of fries, please."

A tug plays on Taeyeon's lips as the words spill from her mouth, and she doesn't have the slightest idea why.

The waitress smiles too, as if it's some sort of joke that only the two of them are in on.

It made something pool in Tiffany's stomach, something close to hurt, but also close to anger. It fogs her mind, makes her want to know why the two of them share jokes that she and Taeyeon do not, makes her want to find out even more about the blonde therapist. Then it hits her.

She's jealous.

* * *

Once they had finished their food, they easily sank into conversation once more; and this time, Tiffany didn't look for a distraction. She allowed herself to be fully aware of Taeyeon's presence, to just bask in the glow of a happy Taeyeon, to fully understand what exactly it is that she feels around the shortie.

She's playing with her straw when the waitress comes back, and though Taeyeon offers to pay, the bleached cutie doesn't allow her to. They bicker, but Taeyeon eventually loses.

With an audible sigh, she smiles sadly at the girl.

"Thanks, Hyo."

"You know it's always on the house from now on," The waitress says, tapping Taeyeon on the shoulder lightly with sympathy. "Stop fighting me on it."

"Alright, alright."

"Now, go on and get out of here," She ushers Taeyeon out of her seat, grasping her hand and putting it on top of Tiffany's. "Go have fun with your friend."

The waitress cackles as she walks away from the two of them, and Tiffany swears she saw Taeyeon blush.

The blonde doesn't let go of her hand, not until Tiffany is out of her seat also, not until they exit. And then Tiffany remembers that they're in public, that they're under watchful and judgemental eyes, and that Taeyeon is her psychologist and possibly a friend, but no more than that.

So, with reluctance, she pulls her hand away, feigning that she's cold as she slips both her hands into her hoodie pocket.

Taeyeon doesn't say anything, just begins to walk, and Tiffany just trails beside her, wondering if she offended the girl or not.

"So," She says, more to break the silence than anything. "You must go there often to know the waitress."

"Yeah," Taeyeon mutters, her head dropping slightly. "I used to go every second night with a friend, but I only go when I feel the need to now."

Sensing that the conversation was deadpanned already, Tiffany felt the urge to continue talking, even if Taeyeon didn't want to. She just craved to hear the girl's voice, to hear some reminder that what was happening wasn't one of her dreams.

Tiffany stopped walking, turning to face Taeyeon. At first, the blonde didn't stop, but soon quickly realised she was on her own. She backpedalled towards Tiffany, tilting her head to the side.

"What's up?"

Tiffany bit her lip, wondering whether it was the time or place to ask the question that's been plaguing her mind for so long.

But as she looks into Taeyeon's eyes and sees her own reflection, and that nothing more than sheer curiosity is what's on her mind, she decides now is probably the best time.

"Why do you like breaking the rules so much, Taeyeon?"

Taeyeon sighed; dropping her head and bringing it back up, as if she had been expecting this question all day.

"Because," She starts, an amused exhale leaving her nose. "If I hadn't snuck out of home one night, I wouldn't have met Leeteuk."

Her brows knitted together.

"Who?"

"The person who owned the ring before me, the person who made me happy again," She held up her palm, as if Tiffany had forgotten for one second about that damned ring. "His name was Leeteuk."

"Oh," She says, beginning to walk again. Taeyeon walks with her, although a little slower than before. "I'm guessing you two were close."

"Yeah, we were best friends."

Her tone is solemn, and Tiffany could already hear the blonde's voice cracking.

In an act of bravery – or possibly stupidity – she reaches down to Taeyeon's palm, lacing their fingers together.

Even though Taeyeon's eyes are casted downward, Tiffany looks straight at her.

"Tell me about him."

"Huh?"

"Tell me."

"I−"

Tiffany interrupts her by holding up her unoccupied hand, palm upwards in the gesture of an oath.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, but then realises what she'd done. "I mean, Doctor-Patient Confidentiality, right?"

Behind her long fringe, Tiffany saw the corners of Taeyeon's mouth quiver. And at the moment, that was enough for her.

"I had a huge fight with my mother one night, and being the stupid teenager I was, I overreacted and snuck out. I went to the subway station, with the intention of skipping town for a week or two." She starts, unevenly. She clears her throat, and glances at Tiffany briefly before continuing. "I somehow managed to bump into Leeteuk; he noticed I was in rough shape and offered to buy me a bowl of fries from a diner nearby – the same diner we just ate at. At first, I thought he was a weirdo. But we got to know each other more and more, and he promised to always be there to buy me fries if I was feeling down. I know how odd it sounds, that we became friends over midnight snacks and pep talks, but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. We were each other's support system, each other's shoulder to lean on . . . He really did help me through a lot."

"Like what?"

"He, uh," Taeyeon's eyes locked with hers, and it almost looked as if she was hoping Tiffany wouldn't run away after telling her. Little did she know, what she was saying only made Tiffany want to stay for even longer. "He took me in after I was kicked out of home."

Her eyes widened, feeling her brows disappear under her red bangs.

"You were kicked out?"

Taeyeon nods, now once again refusing to look at Tiffany.

"Why would any mother kick their own child out?"

Taeyeon laughed bitterly, sickly even.

"She wasn't just _any_ mother, that's the problem. She was what people call _emotionally abusive_. She would guilt me into things, would call me horrible things, tell me even worse things. She never hit me, though. Well, not until the night I was kicked out."

"What did you do?"

"I came out to her, told her I was gay." She says it so simply, as if she had no regrets about being the way she was. Tiffany envied that, she envied how accepting Taeyeon was of herself. "That was when she snapped. She beat me, threw me out the door, and screamed at me until I got off the front porch and started walking."

To say that Tiffany was gobsmacked would be the understatement of the century.

The only thing that left her mouth was: "Wow."

"Yeah, so, after a bowl of fries, Leeteuk took me in without any questions asked. And just like that, it was just me and him."

Her voice was like ice, and was threatening to crack and shatter. Her head lowered even further, so low that Tiffany couldn't make out any of Taeyeon's features other than her hair and jaw line.

She squeezed her hand tighter.

"What happened to him?"

"He− we . . . We went out one night, you know, just taking a walk like we usually did after eating. We were only five minutes away from his apartment, when someone robbed us." She chuckles darkly, as if finding humour in the situation would make her feel somewhat better. "Well, _tried_ to rob us. Leeteuk jumped him, tried to fight him off, tried to wrestle the gun from him. He told me to run, but I just− I just _couldn't_. I didn't know what was going on; at least I didn't know until I heard the gun and saw his face."

She felt bile gurgle and swirl in her stomach, felt rage and hatred pool in her chest.

"That's horrible."

"Even while we were in the ambulance, he told me it was okay. He told me nothing was my fault, he told me to keep going no matter what. It wasn't horrible, because he was so at peace with what was happening, like he had already accepted his fate long ago."

Tiffany watched Taeyeon bring the ring into both of their view, her fist clenching so hard that her knuckles turned white. They had stopped walking, and she watched Taeyeon fume with anger as she stood, rooted to the spot.

She watched Taeyeon's head rise, watched the conflicted storm of fury and betrayal churn in the blonde's eyes, watched her jaw clench and neck tendons tense with each shallow breath that she took.

"He told me that he'd be watching me from now on, that as long as I kept the ring, he'd never leave. But he's a _fucking liar_!" She screamed, a sharp intake hitching in her throat as she continued. "He left when he flat lined, he left me here all alone . . . And I fucking _hate_ him for it."

"But," Tiffany started, feeling sorrow wash over her as she watched the stream leave Taeyeon's eyes. "But you're not alone, Taeyeon."

She doesn't know when she did it, she doesn't know why; but within seconds, she found herself enveloping the blonde into her arms. She hugged her tightly, and although Taeyeon takes a moment to ease into it, she reciprocated soon enough.

Tiffany felt her shoulder getting damp, felt nails digging into her back, felt sob after sob wrack through Taeyeon's body.

It hurt.

Watching and hearing and feeling Taeyeon hurt . . . It hurt her.

She felt Taeyeon nuzzle her face into her neck, and she prayed to God that the blonde couldn't feel how fast her pulse was racing or how crazily her heart was beating.

"You're not alone, you have me."

* * *

Tonight, she didn't even attempt to be quiet as she entered her apartment. She rattled the keys, threw the door open and huffed as she slammed it shut.

She felt bad for it as soon as she saw Jessica's tired face come into her view, the bags under her friend's eyes becoming more prominent this week.

"Where were you?"

She didn't answer the brunette, just padded towards her as she allowed her body to collapse on top of Jessica's.

The brunette let out a small grunt at the contact, though Tiffany instantly felt arms encircle her.

"I just went for a walk." She finally said, breaking the silence.

She felt Jessica nod against her, before she began to rub soothing patterns up her arms.

"You only go for a walk when something bad has happened," Jessica mumbles, reaching towards the TV remote and pressing the _mute_ button before continuing. "What's wrong?"

Tiffany sighed heavily, because that's exactly how she feels.

She feels heavy. She feels useless. Like she's dead weight just being carried around, unable to help anyone.

"Why do bad things happen to such good people, Jessi?"

At that, Jessica pushes Tiffany off of her.

Tiffany recognises the look Jessica is giving her, though she never could put a name to it.

"I . . . I don't know." Her friend says, and it makes her feel even more useless. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," She bites her lip, clenches her fists together. "Because no one should have to lose their best friend. I mean, I couldn't even _imagine_ losing you . . . But she did. She just lost him, for no reason."

Jessica's brows meet at the centre.

"Is this about Taeyeon?"

Frowning, Tiffany nods.

Jessica inhales deeply, as if she's sucking in each word she's going to say and replay it.

"Sometimes . . . Sometimes things just happen, Tiff."

"But they say _everything happens for a reason_ , but I can't think of one valid reason this would happen to anyone."

"You're not always meant to know the reason for something happening; sometimes it's better not knowing. Sometimes, if you know, it ruins the magic of other unexplainable things."

Tiffany doesn't know whether to smile or not at Jessica's words.

Instead, she just hugs the older girl, knowing that will be able to answer the brunette's other questions for now.

"Who knows, maybe the reason you two met is also unexplainable." Jessica hums in thought, "Or, maybe it _is_ explainable."

"What do you mean?"

Her friend holds her tighter, smoothing out her tangled hair.

"Maybe you two were meant to fix each other."

Its in that moment, Tiffany _knows_ she should be smiling at Jessica's words.


	8. Ink

Feet padded softly, two pairs of them, stepping in sync with one another. Wind gusted by, sweeping their hair idly around their faces. A light patter of rain could be heard upon the tiled roof, creating a crescendo of tranquillity.

One of their heads turned as a breeze filled their nose, the scent inviting her closer. She walked to wherever it was taking her, her feet skittering along the small puddles below.

A purple assortment of petals fluttered in front of her, and her eyes immediately became enraptured on the sight. She focused intently on the flower, biting her lip in wonder at it.

It was utterly gorgeous, as if it had been crafted by a higher being, solely for the purpose of capturing the hearts of whoever laid eyes on it.

"Hey, beautiful," The girl swivelled her head, turning to the remaining girl. The two smiled at each other, their hearts racing. "I picked this one for you."

She took the flower from the girl's hand, quirking a brow at the yellow petals and un-thorned stem.

"What does it mean?" She ventured to ask.

The girl said nothing, just taking a brave step forward. She took a deep breath when the girl's hands placed themselves on her waist, her eyes fluttering shut as she came closer.

"Hopelessly in love." Was all the girl said before placing her lips on hers−

− Once again, Tiffany was rudely awakened by her alarm clock, the horrid screeching settling in her ears as she groaned.

This time, she had forgotten her dream by the time she rolled over and turned the alarm off, though a faint recollection of petals came clear every time she blinked, and a ghost of floral scent settling in her nose every time she inhaled.

She scratched the back of her head, yawning as she trudged her way towards the bathroom.

Just like every other morning, Jessica chirped a greeting at her.

"Good morning."

"Morning, Jessi."

She stopped mid stride, her eyes widening when she realised what she'd just done. Her dream must've been good to get that sort of reaction.

She wrapped her hand around the door handle, yanking it open without a second thought.

Only to see an embarrassed, flustered, and barely clothed Yuri in its wake.

"Oh my God," She flushed pink, dropping her gaze immediately. "I'm sorry, I should've knocked!"

She heard Yuri laugh at her, and whether it was because of her reaction, or because she wanted to break the ice, she wasn't sure.

"It's okay," She peeked upwards after hearing the girl's voice, hoping she was dressed. "I probably should've locked the door or something."

Tiffany nodded, not game enough to reply just yet.

"I can go if you'd like, I mean, I could just eat before washing up."

"Don't be silly," Yuri put an arm around her, squeezing her to her side and making her look up at the mirror. "It's all good, I was nearly done anyway."

She nodded again, picking up her toothbrush and beginning her morning routine.

"So," She started in between squeezing the toothpaste and rinsing it under the water. "I'm going to assume things are going well with you and Jessi."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because," She spat into the sink, picking up the toothpaste again and reapplying some more. "This is the second weekend in a row that you've stayed the night."

She watched Yuri's reflection blush, a nervous laugh slipping from her lips.

"Uh, well, I mean, yeah, things are going good− great, I mean." The girl released a sigh, smiling warmly. "Things are amazing. I really _really_ like Sica."

She spat into the sink once more, rinsing her toothbrush and taking a sip of the running water. Her eyes fluttered over her reflection for a moment, noticing that she needed to brush her hair, before settling on Yuri.

Or more, what Yuri had on the edge of her collarbone. It was bold, black, and it peeked from the opening of her tee.

"You have a tattoo?"

"I have two," She starts, smiling at Tiffany's interest in it. She takes the fabric of her tee in her hands, pulling it off her shoulder to reveal the rest of the ink. "This one is called a trinity, it represents the growth of one's spirit, life that is eternal, and love that never dies."

Her eyes take in every detail of the tattoo, from the loop in each knot, to the darkness of each overlapped bit of ink.

"Wow," She says, looking back up at the girl's face. "When did you get it?"

Yuri snorts, "I got it when I was sixteen – during what my mother still calls my _rebellious_ phase – I got drunk with a friend one night and she dared me to do it, so I did."

Yuri laughs at the memory, her head tilting forward. That's when Tiffany notices the second tattoo, a large star that looks like it was made from stained glass, on the nape of her neck.

"What about that one?" She asks, pointing towards Yuri's neck.

"Oh, that's a mandala."

"And what does that one mean?"

"It's meant to enable you to see how your decisions have affected your life and those around you, making you more aware," She shrugged, her raven hair falling back over the inking. "Or something like that anyway. Think of that one as a compensation tattoo for my mother."

Tiffany laughs so hard that she was thankful for not having any toothpaste left in her mouth, her hands coming out to the countertop to support herself.

After brushing her hair, she turns on her heel, smiling at Yuri before beginning to leave the bathroom.

"You know, you're the first person to ask about them other than Jessica."

She turns her head, her eyes meeting Yuri's in the mirror. She sees a genuine smile cross over Yuri's face, and its then that Tiffany realises that she's made a really good friend.

She shrugs, "I just like to know things, I guess."

She watches Yuri chuckle, a sparkle in her eye and a grin on her face.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to notice that."

As she walks away, she realises that Jessica's found a keeper.

* * *

"You know, we should probably get back on track here."

As the suggestion settles in her ears, she's not quite sure if she wants to agree with it. After all, she still had forty minutes with Taeyeon left, why would she want to waste them on things that made her feel melancholy?

But she remembers that the only way she's ever going to be truly happy again, is to comprehend and figure out what makes her feel so melancholy.

And that's why sessions with Taeyeon are tough, because as much as she wants to get better, she knows that after she does, she'll never see the blonde again.

And the mere thought of that hurts.

"Um," She hesitates, watching as Taeyeon's jacket sleeve lifts up in the slightest. The faintest etching of ink can be seen, or maybe it's just the shadows and lighting of the room. But, she ventures to ask anyway. "Taeyeon, do you have a tattoo?"

The blonde looks at her for a moment, her brows furrowing and eyes sharpening upon her before looking down at her wrist, also realising that her sleeve and lifted.

She smiles slightly, nodding at Tiffany.

"Can I see it?"

She watches Taeyeon hesitate for a moment, as if the meaning behind the tattoos is something she's not quite ready to share yet.

But when she rolls her sleeve up to her forearm, Tiffany couldn't help but fawn over the sight.

It was a stem, a long stem, each with a different kind of flower upon it.

Her eyes zero in on the first one, a white flower with petals so intricate that it looks like origami.

"What do they mean?"

Taeyeon's eyes soften on hers, her finger placing itself on top of the first one.

"A white carnation symbolises remembrance, I got it for Teukkie."

The same finger trails upwards to the next one, and Tiffany can't help but watch her skin reveal itself with a newfound hunger. The next one was a deep shade of violet, the petals curling around each other like a sphere."

"A purple hydrangea symbolises perseverance, I got it just after I became a psychologist."

She adjusts her sleeve to the very middle of her arm, settling in the crook of her elbow. A familiar giddiness settles in Tiffany's chest when she realises just how smooth Taeyeon's skin looks to touch, resisting the urge to reach out.

"And this one," Taeyeon's finger settles on three white flowers, all sharing the same branch of stem. "Is a gladiolus flower, it symbolises strength of character. I wanted to make sure that I could remind myself of who I am, what I stand for, of what I really care about."

"Like breaking the rules?" Tiffany teases, waggling her eyebrows.

Taeyeon laughs, shaking her head at the joke.

"Really though, Tae, these are all so beautiful," She trails off, her voice dead in her throat as the urge to run her fingers along the markings grows stronger by the second. She clears her throat, folding her hands together in her lap, hoping that would help. "Are you going to get any more?"

Taeyeon nods sheepishly, rubbing at the nape of her neck.

"I'm hoping to fill the entire stem up."

"What do you mean?"

It's then that Tiffany notices the stem actually goes past where Taeyeon's jacket stops, the thin green ink continuing even though her jacket obscures it.

Taeyeon smiles down at Tiffany, her hand pulling the sleeve back down to her wrist.

Tiffany felt a little disappointed at that, hoping it didn't show on her face.

But then Taeyeon takes one arm out of the jacket, the arm with no ink, and proceeds to take the jacket off completely, giving Tiffany a view she didn't think she was privileged enough to have.

With her mind wandering and pulse racing, she notices how the stem goes up all of her forearm and curls around her elbow, leaving it to roam across her upper arm and veer from her shoulder to where she assumed her collarbones would be.

Vacant blotches of the stem stand out, though, and she tilts her head at the blonde.

"I want to fill up every empty patch, each one with a milestone or something that means a lot to me."

She nods, her voice caught in her throat. She watches as the blonde shrugs her jacket back on, each arm slithering through the sleeve.

It's not until Taeyeon is covered completely that she can find the strength to talk without stuttering.

"What do you plan on getting next?"

Taeyeon's bottom lip juts out, her brows furrowing upwards in a second of thought.

"A peony orchid."

She's never heard of that flower before.

"And what does that mean?"

Taeyeon smiles, her nose twitching.

"You'll find out eventually."

She huffs, sinking into the leather couch. It's just like Taeyeon to never give her all the answers.

They look towards the clock, both noticing just how much time they've taken up.

"Okay, and now with our remaining twenty minutes, I'd like to actually get through something today."

"Oh?"

Taeyeon sits back down into her seat, leaning forward on her knees. Her fringe falls into her eyes, and Tiffany wonders why she still hasn't had a haircut.

"I was hoping to talk about the first time you had depression," An expression she can't pinpoint crosses over Taeyeon's face, but if she had to guess, she'd like to think it was worry. "But I understand if it's too much too soon."

"No." She shakes her head, a familiar throbbing between her eyes beginning at the thought. "No, I think its okay. Let's try."

"Alright, but only if you're sure."

"I'm sure, just hurry up before I change my mind."

Taeyeon nods, meekly, as though she's afraid of entering such dangerous territory.

And Tiffany can't blame her.

"So, you told me you were first diagnosed with depression when you were fifteen. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And can I ask what triggered it?"

The throbbing between her eyes worsened, making it almost unbearable. Her head pounded in pain, her mind screaming at her, telling her everything that was wrong with her, yelling all her insecurities so loudly that she felt them pouring out of her mouth.

"Because I'm afraid."

She hadn't realised she said it until Taeyeon looked at her with such concern that it almost seemed like she cared for her.

Taeyeon scooted further in her seat, the distance between them somewhat lessened. It comforted Tiffany in some sense, as if no matter how far away, Taeyeon would always be there for her.

"Afraid of what?"

The throbbing in between her eyes now stung at the very back of them, the corners of her eyes twinging, feeling like they were burning.

She dropped her head, only to see those familiar wet blotches begin to stain her jeans.

"Myself."

"Why are you afraid of yourself?"

"Because I'm so messed up, because I have three confirmed mental conditions that I know of, because I don't think before I talk, because I run so far away from the truth that it never completely catches up to me−"

She stopped, she had to stop.

Taking a ragged breath, she looked up, biting her trembling lip to stop the sobs from leaking out.

Taeyeon wasn't in her chair anymore; she was perched on the desk between them, a hand on Tiffany's thigh.

The sensation burned within her, setting off a switch in her mind she didn't know she had.

She wanted Taeyeon.

"I'm sorry." She muttered.

But she couldn't have Taeyeon.

The blonde said nothing, just smiling at her sadly, understanding.

And that's what made it harder to not want Taeyeon, because she did understand, because though she was a polar opposite to Tiffany, they were exactly alike.

"Fany, talk to me," Her voice was soft, her hand's movement was soft, but her eyes were the softest. "It's okay, let it out."

She choked back a sob, her heart swelling and shattering at the tone Taeyeon used. She knew on some level that Taeyeon cared more for her than a doctor and patient should, and she knew on some level that they could be considered friends.

But Tiffany wanted more.

So much more.

"I just− I just don't know what to think of myself," She breathed, long, low and stammering. She bit her lip, trying to control the exhales that left her. The world around her shook, her eyes were unbelievably wet, and her tongue began to hurt from the bitter taste she felt for herself. "I should be okay, I should be happy, I should be happy with who I am. But who I am, well, she's horrible. She goes against everything people stand for, she breaks so many stereotypes and expectations that there's nothing left other than disappointment."

Taeyeon got up from the table, moving to sit next to Tiffany. She reached out, and Tiffany noticed the trepidation, like she didn't want to shatter her.

She couldn't blame her for that, either.

She felt shattered, she felt broken, she felt like nothing could ever fix her.

But then Taeyeon's arms circle around her, and she feels like she's going to implode.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," She chants, over and over until Taeyeon silences her−

− With placing a kiss atop her head and tightening her hold.

"Don't apologise," She whispers, so quiet that Tiffany fears that she didn't say it at all. "There's never any need to apologise to me, Fany."

She sniffles, unknowingly snuggling closer into the blonde's embrace.

Instantly, her nose is filled with the scent of her perfume, and Tiffany swears it's slowly becoming her favourite smell. It wafts around her, and it makes her feel safe, makes her feel like she's dreaming all over again.

"Why isn't anything simple, Tae?" She murmurs, only to realise she's buried her face into the girl's shoulder. "I mean, why does everything have to be so complicated? Why is everything _so damn hard_ to figure out?"

She hears Taeyeon's calm breathing hitch, feels her chest stop rising and falling in rhythm. She feels her small hands stop tracing those wonderful circles on her back – but only for a second before starting again. And she feels the stutter of Taeyeon's heart, feels a shudder go through her stomach as she replies.

"I wish I knew, Fany, I really do."

And after those words, Tiffany smiled, because she was almost certain that Taeyeon's nose twitched.

* * *

Her feet pummelled against the ground at an alarming pace, footsteps so loud that they echoed throughout each hallway she passed.

Upon reaching the door, she swung it open and shut, making Jessica turn to her with a look of confusion and frustration.

"Yah, what do you think you're doing?"

She didn't answer her friend, merely waving her hand and rushing towards her. She gave Jessica the most innocent look she could before snatching the laptop from her hands and sitting beside her.

"Tiff, what the hell?"

Tiffany shushes her with her hand, placing a finger to her lips as she raises her brows.

Jessica relents, sinking into the back of the couch as she watches Tiffany type.

 _Peony flower meaning_ , is all she types before hitting enter.

Results come up almost instantly, her eyes scanning over each and every one before she smiles.

"Oh my God."

Jessica leans her head onto her shoulder, brown locks tickling her arm.

"What is it?"

She's at a loss for words, all comprehending thoughts lodged somewhere between her heart and throat.

Because upon the screen was the single definition that made Tiffany's heart soar.

 _A peony orchid symbolises healing._

She watches her friend scroll down through the results, watches her brows furrow and her lips pout.

"It's just a flower, Tiff."

"No, that's the thing; it isn't 'just a flower'. It means to heal," Tiffany exhales, a soft laugh of disbelief leaving her. "She's going to heal."

Jessica's head leaves her shoulder in an instant, question marks in her eyes.

But Tiffany can't answer, not right now, not when she feels like her heart is going to burst.

"I'll explain in the morning, I promise." She leans over; giving the brunette a chaste kiss on the cheek and sliding the laptop back towards her. She gets up from the couch, a skip in her step. Once she reaches her bedroom door, she turns back to her bewildered friend. "Night, Jessi, sweet dreams."

She doesn't give Jessica a chance to respond, closing the door behind her, leaning against it and sighing.

She feels as if her chest is filling up with too much air, her legs are a little wobbly at the lack of oxygen to her head, and her cheekbones are really starting to hurt from how wide she's smiling.

She flops onto her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"She's going to heal."


	9. Mercy

If one was to look up _fear_ in the dictionary, it would read that it is an unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger, pain, or harm. But if anyone were to ask Tiffany, fear is constant. It is what binds her to normalcy, what makes her crave to fit in. She hates disappointing people, especially her family, most importantly her mother.

But that wasn't really possible anymore.

Yet she still quaked every time someone connected the dots, still shivered every time people figured her out.

And when Taeyeon looked at her with an unwavering gaze, her eyes piercing her with such knowing, as if she, too, had once sat like Tiffany, once quivered with fright, once hated her very being for something that shouldn't require an explanation.

"Tiffany," She heard Taeyeon try, but she couldn't look up, not with the shame pushing down on her head. "Fany,"

That made her look up. A reminder that she was still human, still any kind of acceptable; because she knew Taeyeon would accept her, and that's something, at least.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to ask you a question," She said, blonde locks falling into her eyes. She swept them away, not once breaking her gaze on the redhead. "And I hope it won't offend you or anything of the sort, it's just that it's been on my mind since you started talking about being afraid of yourself."

"Okay."

"I'm getting the feeling that you're afraid to be yourself, that you fear the judgement of others like a weight upon your shoulders. And I can't help but notice these things, because I notice a lot of things about you." She smiled sadly when she watched Taeyeon take a deep breath, sighing. Maybe it was just as hard for Taeyeon to confront it, too. "Fany, is what your trying to come to terms with, is what you're afraid of . . . Are you gay?"

It hit her like a train, she saw the signs, but it was too late to back away. She'd been hit, and now she was lying on the tracks, no point in trying to crawl away from something that's already struck.

"No – well, yes – I mean," She sighs, long and heavy. "I don't know if I'm gay, I'm just . . . It's all so confusing."

Taeyeon hums, nodding.

"You know, I was like you once."

"What do you mean?"

Taeyeon's brows furrow, her fringe falling forward in the slightest. "I was scared, I hated myself, I was afraid of what everyone would think of me. But you know what I figured out?"

Tiffany leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She tilted her head towards the blonde, waiting for her to continue.

"Love is . . . Its fluid. There are no restraints or boundaries set on love, nothing holds you back. You can't help what you feel, and if the people that matter to you can't accept that, then they shouldn't matter, because they're not worthy of you; I learnt that the hard way from my mother." She takes a breath, and Tiffany notices her fingers twitch. "So, you may not be gay, as such, but you may just have a preference towards women; hell, you could even have a preference towards men. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't have to put a label on yourself if you don't have to, it's not necessary. Honestly, I don't think sexuality comes into play when you're in love, because you fall in love with _who_ someone is, not anything else."

"But, what will people think? What will they say when they find out _who_ I have feelings for?" She asks to no one in particular, staring helplessly at her nails. "Because that's not exactly smiled upon, either."

Taeyeon's nose twitches, the corner of her eyes crinkling.

"You know what else isn't smiled upon?"

"What?"

"A psychologist with tattoos and a disregard for the rules."

"That's . . . That's different."

Taeyeon leans forward in her chair, resting her chin in her hands. Tiffany found it adorable; she was just too unintentionally cute.

"How so?" The blonde asks.

"Because your disregard for the rules makes you interesting, and your tattoos are beautiful."

"You're beautiful,"

Tiffany wasn't sure if she heard it right, but by the way Taeyeon's hands clamped over her own mouth and her eyes widened, she just might have. Once the reality had set in, Tiffany blushes, so hard that she thinks her cheeks are on fire.

"I mean, it's not like you're anywhere near ugly, I just−"

"Tae," She interrupts the blonde, a slight tug in her lips. She watches Taeyeon sigh, nodding, urging her to continue. "Want to break another rule?"

"But then I'll have none left to break."

Tiffany wonders if Taeyeon had a plan for the last rule she wanted to break, because the blonde sounded rather disappointed by the suggestion.

"This one's on me."

"But−"

"Look, my session is over in less than five minutes." She beams at the older girl, tapping her knee before getting up and walking. Just before she slinks out the door, she murmurs, "I'll be waiting."

* * *

Tiffany bounces on the balls of her feet, shifting her weight with a clouded mind. She doesn't know why she's suggesting this; she doesn't know what is going to come from it, all she knows is that she needs to be there for it. A _see to believe_ situation, if you will.

She feels fingers wrap around her wrist, dragging her out the door. And she would have been scared, if the floral scent didn't surround her. And it did, quite literally, surround her. It span around her as she was dragged outside the building, circled around her very being as she watched the blonde waves flow in the wind and the petite body trudge its way through the streets.

Once they were in the clear, the scent faded somewhat, but not enough to deter the haze in her mind.

Taeyeon loosened her grip, only enough to turn on her heel and face Tiffany.

"So, what did you have in mind?"

Tiffany put a hand on her hip, scanning the area around them. It was pretty lifeless, but maybe that was just because most people would be at work right now.

"Where's the nearest tattoo parlour?"

"You're kidding," Taeyeon says, but with an eager smile on her face. But when Tiffany shakes her head, the blonde's eyes twinkle. "I'll take you through the shortcut."

After weaving through backstreets, they came upon an alleyway. It was surprisingly clean, not a single stain, dinge, or sign of filth to be seen. Though, maybe all alleys were spotless, maybe Tiffany was just watching too much TV.

"C'mon," Taeyeon urged, tugging on her hand. "It's just through here."

She'd never been dragged so much in her life, but she hadn't smiled this much in a long time, either. There was just something about the way Taeyeon's fingers locked perfectly around her wrist, something about the way she tugged, something about the spark in her eye that only grew bigger as time went on.

It's breathtaking.

The bell above the door rang as they entered, Taeyeon's hand having shifted to hold hers. It was shaking slightly, and Tiffany wondered if she was scared.

"Welcome to _Inkspressive_ , how can I help you?"

Taeyeon froze, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. Tiffany squeezed her hand, pushing her forward slightly.

"She wants to add to her tattoo."

"Oh, alright," The worker stood from behind the computer, her bubblegum pink hair swaying with every movement. Tiffany was in awe of her hair, and it immediately brought a smile on her face. The girl's pouty lips were painted a deep shade of red, making her small eyes stand out in contrast. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, sorry," Taeyeon shook her head, fingers stiff against Tiffany's.

"I'll have to check to see if we have a free slot, but I'm sure you'll be fine." She leant over the desk, and Tiffany noticed just how short the girl was. Maybe she was even shorter than Taeyeon. "We have a free spot in about ten minutes, is that alright?"

Taeyeon gulped, her grip on Tiffany's hand getting tighter. "Um, yeah."

"Oh, and I need you to tell me what tattoo you're actually going to get, and your name, of course ."

"Uh, a peony orchid. My name is Taeyeon."

"Alright, Taeyeon, you and your girlfriend take a seat over there," Before the two could object, she continued. "I'll call you over when I'm ready. I'm Sunny, by the way."

The two walked over to the seats, and though the awkward atmosphere was set, Taeyeon didn't let go of Tiffany's hand.

"Don't tell me that you're scared, Tae."

Taeyeon looked up at her, blinking.

"Not scared, just . . . Nervous."

"You've got an entire stem up the length of your arm, how can you possibly be nervous about a small little flower?"

Taeyeon tensed, her lip curling upwards.

"Needles freak me out."

She nodded, running her thumb along Taeyeon's palm. She watched the blonde's cheeks heat up, and she wondered if the room temperature was warmer in here, because she was feeling it too.

"Well, you've got me now to distract you."

Taeyeon laughs softly, "Yeah, I do."

"Alright, Taeyeon," They saw the worker's head pop over the stall, and Tiffany wondered if she was on her tiptoes. "Come on through, your girlfriend can come through, too, if you'd like."

Before either of them could say anything, she was gone. Taeyeon cleared her throat, glancing at Tiffany through the corner of her eye. Tiffany looked down; hoping the colour of her hair would hide the brightness of her cheeks.

Once Taeyeon was lying down, the buzzing of the tattoo needle filled Tiffany's ears. It drummed throughout her skull, and she felt Taeyeon's hand shoot out to hold hers again.

"Just relax, a flower this small will only take around fifteen minutes."

Taeyeon gritted her teeth as the needle broke her skin, a sharp hiss leaving her lips at the pain. Her fingers knotted against Tiffany's, squeezing so hard she thinks she could hear her knuckles crack.

But she was there for her; she let Taeyeon know that by covering their palms with her remaining one, allowing Taeyeon to squeeze as hard as she had to. Just as long as she knew she was here, as long as she knew that she wasn't letting go.

With one final buzz and hiss, the pink-haired worker dabbed a clean cloth onto the tattoo. She leant over from her chair, reaching out for the gladwrap.

"There," She said, wrapping it around the ink. "All done, wanna see it?"

Tiffany nodded before Taeyeon did, taking the mirror eagerly from Sunny's hand and thrusting it above the tattoo to show the blonde.

"It's perfect, Tae."

"Yeah," Taeyeon said. And if Tiffany wasn't so busy staring at the ink, she would've seen that Taeyeon was only staring at her. "Perfect."

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and assume you like it," Sunny smirked, patting Taeyeon on the knee to get up. They followed her back to the front desk, still hand in hand.

"Fany, you should get one."

"What?" Tiffany gawked, letting go of Taeyeon's hand. "No. No way, not today."

"Alright then, wait up for me, I'm just gonna pay."

"Okay."

She leant against the wall of the parlour, tapping her foot. Seriously, how long does Taeyeon take just to pay?

She watched Taeyeon turn around with a grin on her face, bounding towards her. She bounced on the ball of her feet.

"They have an opening the same time next week, I booked you in."

"What?"

"You're going to get your tattoo after your next session; aren't you excited?"

Her eyes were sparking, the grin on her face almost painted on. She was as excited as a child on Christmas morning, and Tiffany couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Sure, kid."

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm older than you."

Tiffany scrunches her face up, ruffling Taeyeon's blonde tresses.

"Alright, you big baby."

She walks out of the parlour, heading towards the alley they came through. She hears footsteps behind her, and she sidesteps to the left, nearly bumping into the wall.

Taeyeon catches her wrist, turning her to face her. She stumbles a bit, and whether it was because of her poor balance or the way Taeyeon was looking at her, she wasn't sure.

"You know, being older, that means I'm stronger _and_ faster than you." She summaries with a shrug. "So, you shouldn't try to run away."

Tiffany smiles, looking down at the way Taeyeon's hand was holding her wrist. If only she knew just how much she never wanted to run.

But she can't let her know that; so, she looks up, defiance in her eyes.

"Prove it."

A smirk makes its way up the blonde's face, and she holds both her palms up straight.

"How about a game of _Mercy_?"

"What?"

Taeyeon exhales, a slight laugh in her breath.

"We lock hands, and push. Once you've had enough, you say 'mercy', but that means you lose."

Tiffany takes both of her hands confidently, locking her fingers into place.

"I don't lose easily."

The smirk on the blonde's face grew wider, and Tiffany felt the grip tighten between them.

"Then this will be more fun than I thought."

Without warning, Taeyeon pushes, making Tiffany take a quick step back to steady herself. They're quite evenly matched, she thinks, or maybe Taeyeon just isn't trying hard enough. She pushes back, not letting up easily.

She bites her bottom lip, looking up from their hands to see if Taeyeon is concentrating just as hard as she is.

But Taeyeon's eyes are already hard set on her, already boring a hole into her. Those onyx orbs are like a prison to Tiffany, she gets so trapped so quickly, and she notices that Taeyeon is looking at her as if she's prey.

She nearly forgets her entire existence.

Though, she's quickly reminded, as her momentary loss of thought made her forget to push. The back of her heel is against the wall of the alley, threatening to spill her body backwards.

She grits her teeth, keeping her eyes on Taeyeon's as she pushes as hard as she can. Her left foot still firmly against the wall, she pivots, slamming the blonde against the wall with a breathless _thud_.

She gazes at Tiffany, the look in her eye something Tiffany just can't place. It looks like confidence, but there's something brewing behind that façade, something that makes the both of them grin as Tiffany pushes again, pinning Taeyeon's hands to either side of her head.

Taeyeon whimpers as the force made Tiffany lean a little closer, but she notices that it isn't a whimper of pain.

"Mercy?" She questions, her voice barely above a whisper.

Taeyeon flushes madly, her nose twitching as she tries to free her hands. But Tiffany just leant closer, the gap between them almost nonexistent.

She begins to wonder if she has something in her teeth, because Taeyeon's eyes keep flickering to her mouth, and she looks as if she wants to say something.

But she doesn't say anything, just wets her lips as her eyes graze back up to meet Tiffany's.

She doesn't know how long they stay like that, Taeyeon pinned, bodies close, breath mingling. She wonders why they stay like that, if Taeyeon loves it just as much as she does, if she has the desire to close the distance like she does.

Taeyeon breaks the silence, but not their stare.

"Mercy." She says, the lowness of her voice setting of the switch inside Tiffany.

Neither of them make a move to break away, both just watching, both just waiting, waiting for someone to do something, to do _anything_.

But the tips of Tiffany's ears go red, and Taeyeon's nose twitches; and so, she releases her hold, letting go of a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

Taeyeon clears her throat awkwardly, her head drooped.

"So," The blonde starts, beginning to walk. Tiffany follows suit, trailing after her, but staying a foot away just in case. "What tattoo do you think you're going to get?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure," She stammers, nearly tripping over a crack in the pavement. "I mean, I want something with meaning, you know? I don't want to put myself through all that pain for nothing."

She hears Taeyeon's booming laugh, feels the familiar pooling in her chest, and she knows that everything is back to the way it was.

"It doesn't hurt that much, cry baby."

She feels the warmth of Taeyeon's hand envelop her own, feels her fingers lace with hers.

"Well, you made it look like it hurt, what with all the hissing and swearing you did."

Taeyeon ignores her, scoffing as she tugs on Tiffany's hand.

"Hurry up, will you. I've still got a stack of files to go through."

She holds Tiffany's hand tighter, tugs harder, so hard that they're almost arm in arm. She feels herself heat up at the contact, then feels a fire rage within her as she imagines how much more contact they could share. The mere idea of physicality sets something off inside her, and if it wasn't for the fact that they were near Taeyeon's workplace, she might even have the courage to pin her again.

She might have even done something if she had the chance again.

"Sounds like you've got a lot of fun to look forward to back at the office." She quips, watching the blonde smile.

Taeyeon looks up, and Tiffany can feel her eyes roam over her, as if she was getting examined, but something much more pleasant.

They round the corner to the building Taeyeon works at, both of them checking for any sign of familiar life. She feels her hand go cold again as Taeyeon lets it go, and though she knows the circumstances, she feels a little disappointed at the loss of contact.

"The only fun I have around here is once a week."

She arches a brow, placing her hands on her hips with a sly smirk on her face.

"And when is that?"

She sees Taeyeon smile, sees her nose twitch; its fleeting, but it was there.

"When you're scheduled," She winks, making Tiffany flush. "I'll see you next week, Fany."

She waves, not brave enough to show her reddening face.

"See you."

* * *

She was leaning on the kitchen counter, head in her hands. The lights were dim, as only one of them worked in this particular section of the apartment, and it only made her friend's maddening smile look more frightening.

"What is it, Jessi?" She asked, peeking through her fingers.

"I think," The brunette started, heaving an overly dramatic sigh as she leant forward on her elbows. "That you couldn't be any blinder."

"What do you mean?"

"Wow, and they _I'm_ slow," Jessica chuckles softly, shaking her head. "Tiff, she's giving you all the signs. I mean, she didn't even budge when you had her pinned, she was staring at your mouth, you have cute little pet names for each other. I could go on, but at this point it seems like she's pretty much begging for you to do something."

"I wouldn't say _begging_."

Jessica huffs, picking up her phone from beside her.

"Would you like a second opinion?"

She shrugs, "If you think it'll help."

Jessica smiles, tapping on the screen. "You're going to regret agreeing to that."

"Why?"

Before she could receive an answer, a husky voice was heard through the device.

"Hi Seobang, Tiff needs a little help with some girl trouble."

 _"Oh, really now?"_ Yuri's voice was even lower of the phone, Tiffany noticed. _"Fire away then, princess."_

Once the situation was explained, Tiffany realised Jessica was right, she _does_ regret agreeing.

 _"Tiff, she totally wants you."_

"Then why doesn't she do anything about it?" She exclaims, throwing her hands in the air before leaning back down on them.

 _"Because she's probably just as afraid as you are of rejection. Plus, the fact that she's your psychologist most likely puts a dent in all her plans. I'm sure she's feeling just as crappy about not being able to do anything as you are. Trust me, just make the first move."_

"I don't know if I can do that." She admits, biting her bottom lip.

"Of course you can." Jessica assures, rubbing her arm softly.

 _"Sica's right, Tiff. Just take it slow, make sure it's what you both want to do before doing it. And then, when you think the moment is right, tuck some hair behind her ear, whisper some saucy words, and kiss the absolute hell out of her."_

"Eloquently put, Seobang."

"Alright, alright," Tiffany leans up from her arms, smiling. "You can both stop ganging up on me now."

Jessica smiles warmly as she ends the call with Yuri, a smile that Tiffany has never seen before. It makes her eyes crinkle at the corners, the irises lighting up like a star; her cheeks are tinged pink, and she looks like she's just about ready to burst.

"Jessi, what's that smile?"

"What smile?"

Tiffany points at her face, "That smile."

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure? It looks a bit, I don't know, lovesick."

"What?" Jessica's head snaps up, her dreamy state broken. "No."

"You sure?"

"Well, I mean, not yet anyway. Yuri, she's – she's great, fucking amazing, actually." She looks down at her hands, brown tresses hiding her face. "But it's not love; at least, I don't think it is."

"Sure, I believe you," Tiffany leans her head sideways, smiling whimsically. "Yuri is just _so_ cute; Yul is just the sweetest thing; Tiff, come look at what Yuri just gave me, isn't she perfect?"

"Yah," Jessica warns, swatting her arm. "I don't sound like that."

Tiffany's smile turns back to her own one, "But you do, Jessica. Maybe I'm not the only girl in this apartment who's falling for someone."

She drags her limbs from the kitchen bench, only now realising just how tired she really is. She heads to her bedroom with a short yawn, dragging her legs.

"Goodnight, Jessi, sweet dreams."

Jessica doesn't reply, staring intensely at her hands. It would normally seem like a sorry sight, but Tiffany knows she just needs time to figure her feelings out, needs time to accept just how strongly she feels for Yuri.

"Oh, and Jessi?" She leans against the doorway, waiting for her friend to look up.

"What?"

"I'm getting a tattoo next week."

"Okay," Is the reply she gets. She closes her bedroom door, counting to three inside her head before, "Wait, you're getting a _what_!?"


	10. Drowning

Fingers tweaked between themselves, bones feeling very much alive underneath her skin, like they were swimming inside the mass of muscle and skin. Her skin was cold, she assumed, because she shivered, though she's never really sure if that's why she shivers anymore.

It was raining today, the light yet somehow heavy and melodious patter filling her ears as it settled upon the roof, the walls, and her existence.

Soft lines of water trailed down the window's glass, tracing curved and straight lines down to the bottom of its pane. Condensation settles upon the glass, blurring and obscuring the surroundings outside; making it seem like outside didn't really exist, like the only things real were inside this room.

Her eyes settle on Taeyeon, her tongue limp inside her mouth and her right foot shuffling on the ground, adding to the somewhat comfortable sounds.

The blonde looks at her with an expression Tiffany came to see as new, but it feels like its old, but a good kind of old, the kind of old that's nostalgic. Her eyes rake across Tiffany's face, and she feels like Taeyeon wants to say something, because her bottom lip droops in the slightest, creating a gap that allows the edges of her front four teeth to show. They're quite straight, quite neat, quite white.

She shivers again, shaking the image of them scraping down her neck from her mind.

"Tiffany," She says, and it makes Tiffany inhale sharply, though she doesn't know why. She nods to the blonde in acknowledgement, pulse thudding in her ears as Taeyeon sets her eyes right onto hers. "You're a very curious case, you know."

She tilts her head to the left, raising a brow. Taeyeon doesn't answer right away, she flicks the pen she never uses through her three main fingers, and Tiffany has to wring her own fingers out, chasing away the thought of them running down her waist.

"I am?"

Taeyeon nods, her fringe falling in front of her eyes. God, Tiffany wishes she would get a haircut already.

"You are. Don't get me wrong, it's extremely interesting – _you're_ extremely interesting." She rambles, a hand swiping her fringe from her face. "I just don't get it. One minute you're falling into the abyss, and the next you're giving me that gorgeous smile of yours."

She flushes, not sure she heard Taeyeon right. It's been like this a lot lately – second guessing what the blonde is saying, purely because Tiffany doesn't think she's worthy enough to hear it.

"I mean, I just −" She tucks her fringe behind her ear this time, her head turning to the right just for a moment, but it was long enough for Tiffany's eyes to roam over her jaw line. "Please, explain how you're feeling to me. I may be good at my job, but I'm not sure if I'm _that_ good yet."

She remembers the rain, feels the condensation from the windows cloud inside her chest, pluming until it reaches her stomach and makes it churn. She feels the weight of the rain, feels the water crash down on her from above, feels it drown her alive.

She's not sure if she can breathe properly anymore, the drowning was always so slow. So, _so_ slow. She struggled for air, her chest constricting and her eyes feeling like they've opened underwater as they sting and sting and _sting_.

"Tiffany," The girl practically begs, and Tiffany watches her legs walk towards the end table between their chairs. She sees the blonde's feet settle as she sits atop the hardened wood, afraid to look any higher. "Talk to me, Fany, explain it to me, please."

She comes up for air as Taeyeon's hand envelops hers, her body above the pushing water as Taeyeon's thumb runs along the back of her palm.

Slowly, she allows her head to come up, allows herself to look at Taeyeon.

Instead, she looks into Taeyeon. She gets so lost in her, in the way her eyebrows slant upwards in the middle, the way the curl of her fringe is peeking out from behind her earlobe, from her twitching nose all the way to her eyes.

She's so lost in her eyes, so trapped, so captivated. She's so lost in them that it feels like she's found.

She feels a drop hit her palm, and she's not sure if it's the rain, the water she just drowned in, or her own brand of sorrow.

Shying away, she breaks their gaze to sniffle and look down at their joined hands.

Taeyeon's hand doesn't budge, even when the water trails onto her own hand, slipping between the seal of where their palms meet as one. Her hand fits in hers, too, like it was a piece to a puzzle; and for a moment – though it was fleeting – she felt like Taeyeon was her missing piece, that Taeyeon could solve her.

"I shouldn't be sad, Tae."

She says it with finality, like it was a simple math question you get in kindergarten. But it seems Taeyeon was never good with maths.

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because I have a roof over my head, I have food to eat, I'm young and I'm healthy and −" She stops, halting her breath. Drowning again, writhing for air. "And I have no reason to be sad, because of all these things and more. Things are going right for me; I'm the one who's making them wrong."

Taeyeon takes a deep breath, her eyes reaching the same spot on their hands.

Tiffany wonders if she's dragged her under the water with her.

She's not sure how long Taeyeon stared at them for, maybe only a second, because she looked back up fairly quickly. Her hand left Tiffany's, her index finger curling, settling underneath her chin to bring her face upwards.

She sees Taeyeon gulp, barely noticeable, but her neck tendons quivered enough to prove it.

"Have you ever had a broken bone?"

"I broke my leg when I was a kid, thought I could jump off a swing set and be fine."

Taeyeon laughed a little, a small puff of air hitting the skin above Tiffany's top lip. It tickled.

"Did you think that you could walk it off, or did you get it fixed?"

"I got it fixed, of course."

"Exactly." She smiles at Tiffany, lips curling. "You see, it's not just bones that are like that. People are like that, too. Sometimes, people get broken, their emotions and feelings so out of place that it feels like they can't be put back together. It's not as simple as fixing a broken bone, either; because you need it to heal, need it to mend, and need to regain trust for the rest of humanity so they won't break you again. I can do all that for you; I can help you get better. Do you trust me?"

 _Get better._

There it was, but it never seemed as tangible as it did now. Now, there was hope. There was hope, and there was trust, and there was Taeyeon.

She nods.

A meek smile cross the blonde's face, the hand under her chin coming up to wipe away what Tiffany finally admitted were tears, cupping Tiffany's face when she was finished.

Taeyeon looks like she wants to say something again; instead her teeth capture her bottom lip as her tongue jabs against her cheek. She drops her hand from Tiffany's face, fingers grazing slightly against the line of her neck and past her shoulder.

"We've run out of time for today."

Tiffany cranes her neck to look at the clock on the wall, watching the red hand tick as the seconds went by, showing her just how long she'd been caught up in her own melancholy, how long she'd been caught up in Taeyeon's touch.

She looks back to the psychologist, who has since walked over to her usual chair, her jacket between her small hands.

Her eyes settle on Tiffany as she pushed an arm through each sleeve, a small smile on her face, enough for her dimple to show. Tiffany wasn't sure if she'd ever see something more beautiful again.

Had Taeyeon really moved? Had time really kept going?

It still felt like her face was in Taeyeon's palm; she could still feel its warmth, still feel the heavy burden of her feelings flutter inside her chest.

Fingers snapped in front of her eyes, and she'd begun to hate the fact that she could zone out so easily.

"You didn't forget, did you?"

She scrunched her face up. "Forget what?"

"Your appointment."

"Didn't we just finish?" She asked, lips pursing.

"I meant for your tattoo," Taeyeon said with a smile, one that Tiffany found utterly adorable. Taeyeon took her hands in hers and helped her up from the seat, leading her to the door. A small laugh left Taeyeon as she opened the door, her blonde hair bouncing as she shook her head. "What am I gonna do with you?"

Tiffany blushed, walking out of the door before she could rattle off a list of things she would absolutely _love_ Taeyeon to do.

* * *

The rain sloshed underneath their feet as they walked, Tiffany's hair already beginning to feel heavy under the sky's influence. Despite the weather, the rain wasn't gloomy, nor was the outcome. The sky was only a deeper shade of blue, there was no fog, and the air wasn't hanging in a pregnant pause.

They were silent the whole walk to the tattoo parlour, Tiffany was trying to think of what to get as her tattoo, but she wasn't sure what Taeyeon was thinking so hard about.

Taeyeon held the door open for her, bowing dramatically with an uttered "your majesty" that Tiffany couldn't say no to. Not that she'd ever say no to her, anyway.

The same girl was behind the desk as last week, though her hair was now a bright shade of teal instead of pink. She had a new piercing, Tiffany noted, a metal bar all throughout the top of her left ear instead of a simple stud.

"Hey, you're back." The chirpy girl said, eyes becoming mere slits as she grinned.

"Of course we are, couldn't have her chickening out now, could we?"

Taeyeon nudged her a step in front, smiling encouragingly. Tiffany almost refused to budge, the reality of what she was doing sinking in. She was going to permanently mark her skin, an almost irreversible process that is going to hurt.

Oh God, it's going to hurt like a bitch.

"You're not getting too nervous, are you?" Sunny asked, leaning over her desk. "Because I can't ink a straight line if you're going to be all jumpy."

They both laughed at the joke, though Tiffany's was rather shaky. She couldn't move, she couldn't do this; it was all happening so quickly.

Taeyeon's hand splayed against the small of her back, pushing her forward. She took a step, feeling lightheaded as she felt Taeyeon's breath tickling against the shell of her ear.

"I'm here. You'll be fine," Her fingers drummed against Tiffany's back, and she was suddenly aware of how all her nerve endings suddenly resided in her spine. "I promise."

Tiffany takes a deep breath, looking at Sunny with the bravest expression she can muster.

"Do you have any birds?"

"We have a whole book full of them," The girl bobbed down for a moment, coming back up with a laminated book. She placed it on the desk, opening to the front and beckoning the two of them over. "Choose any bird you like."

She flipped through idly, not taking much notice. They all seemed similar, nothing really sticking out.

Until she spots the perfect one on the third page. It's a sihouette of an eagle, she thinks, flying – soaring, even – with its wings stretched so far out that it almost looks like its touching heaven. She points to it immediately.

"This is the one."

"Ooh, nice." Sunny says, taking out a clean and seemingly soft piece of paper and a pencil, beginning to sketch the outline. "And where do you want it?"

Tiffany looks at Taeyeon, unsure of where to put it. Taeyeon merely shrugs at her, and Tiffany soon comes to the conclusion that it's going to hurt no matter where.

"Here." She drags a circle around the base of her neck, just above her collarbone.

"Alright, give me five minutes and I'll have this bad boy ready." Sunny doesn't look up from her drawing at all, biting her bottom lip in concentration as her free hand points down the aisle. "You and your girlfriend can wait in the booth, if you'd like."

Tiffany waits for Taeyeon to correct the short girl, but feels some sort of triumph when no objections were made. Instead, the blonde just leads her down the aisle, her hand never once leaving the small of her back.

The chair was cold underneath her, her wet hair pressing uncomfortably against the back of her neck as she allowed her head to sink into the headrest. She squirmed, feeling her breathing pick up as Sunny came into the booth with a smile on her face.

"You know this is only going to hurt at the start, right?" Taeyeon asked, giggling a little at the clear display of fear on Tiffany's face.

She didn't reply, wincing as Sunny began to sterilise the entire bottom half of her neck. To shut Taeyeon's giggling up, she reached out and took her hand, squeezing roughly as the first sounds of buzzing could be heard.

"You know, I think I'm beginning to hate you."

"Funny," Taeyeon replies, squeezing her hand just as hard. "Because I think I might be starting to like you a little too much."

She didn't have enough time to even blush, the distraction of Taeyeon proving to be enough for Sunny to sink the needle in.

God fucking damn, it hurt.

She growled against the pain, feeling like she was getting sliced up into a million pieces. It hurt, _fuck_ , it hurt. It stung, and it pounded, and she could literally _feel_ her blood flowing around it.

She wanted to wriggle; she wanted to pry herself free.

But Taeyeon's hand met her jaw, angling her face towards her own.

She wasn't sure what the adrenaline in her veins was pumping for anymore.

Taeyeon's look was stern, and if it wasn't for the fact that a needle was carving ink into her skin, she would've felt like she was flying. It was the kind of look you would always crave to receive, and Tiffany wished she could just stare at Taeyeon forever.

Her hair was damp from the rain, though not as damp as hers. The blonde strands had fashioned themselves to form doll-like waves, framing her face into something of a goddess. A few drops of rain had wet her forehead, making it glisten like a halo. There was still the faintest recollection of rain water on her bottom lip, and Tiffany didn't know whether she wanted to wipe it away or lick it off herself.

It stung again, the echo of Sunny's voice telling her she was beginning to colour it in now. It didn't hurt as much as it did before, but maybe that was the adrenaline, maybe that was Taeyeon.

"You okay?"

She nodded at Taeyeon's words, feeling the girl's thumb run across her knuckles over and over and over.

Maybe she should get more tattoos.

* * *

Once Taeyeon had paid – much to Tiffany's annoyance, but the girl insisted – they decided to just go for a walk.

"Don't you need to get back to work?"

She watched Taeyeon shake her head, the rain bouncing off her head like a shaggy dog. She smiled at Tiffany, taking her hand and walking her towards the nearest park.

They sat at the swings, Tiffany kicking the wet dirt up from underneath her feet, Taeyeon swaying on the tips of her toes.

"Still think you could jump off and be fine?" Taeyeon asked, sniggering.

"Oh wow, you're so hilarious."

"Aren't I just?" Her grin was cocky as she swung herself sideways to crash into Tiffany. "So, are you going to explain what your tattoo means or do I have to ask?"

Tiffany turned to face her, the chains of her swing twirling.

"Wasn't that asking just then?"

Taeyeon shrugged, "Humour me."

"Fine, only because you're cute."

"You think so?"

"Shut up." She hit her swing into Taeyeon's, making the blonde stagger for a few moments. "Depression always felt like drowning to me, it still does. My mother had told me when I was first diagnosed that when you find the thing that keeps you afloat, that you should never let it fly away."

"So, then why did you get a bird? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

Tiffany shook her head, hands beginning to feel icy from the wind.

"Because sometimes, you find something new, you find something else that keeps you grounded. I'm still afloat, but now I have an anchor, I have something that will keep me grounded and won't let me fall too deep. It was time to let her fly away."

"That's – wow."

She untangled her chains, facing ahead.

"Wow?"

"Yeah, I never knew you were such a hard thinker."

Tiffany kicked her shin.

"Ow, okay, okay."

"You're such a kid, Kim Taeyeon."

She feels the air spin around her as Taeyeon's hands rest on either side of her swing, making her face her. She suddenly feels so conscious of the blonde's hands; they were so close to her hips, so close to touching her.

"What happens if you fall deeper instead of staying grounded, though?"

The question hit her, it hit her hard. She didn't know where to even begin thinking about it, because her answer was already in the front of her mind, would surely be able to be seen in her eyes, it may as well be written across her forehead.

"I think I've already fallen pretty deep."

Taeyeon smiles. It's a warm smile, a smile that makes Tiffany shiver for all the right reasons.

She can sense Taeyeon's hands, sense them burning, itching to move.

Instead, Taeyeon's nose twitches, her hands not moving even a millimetre closer.

"That's really good to know, Fany." She says, her fringe hiding her face as she looks down at her hands. "Really good to know."


	11. More Than Something

She wonders what things would be like in a different universe.

She wonders if the only differences would be her hair colour, or the colour of her skin, or the tone of her voice or her laugh. She wonders if the rain would fall differently, if the wind would blow in the opposite direction, if tides would flow out or in.

Or maybe there'd be major differences. Perhaps her whole life would have been different if she had not blown on the dandelion she picked up three weeks ago, maybe she wouldn't have becomes friends with Jessica if she hadn't been teased for her braces in middle school.

A life without Jessica beside her was incredibly hard to envision; even now, as she sits in the waiting room with her hands in her lap, expecting her name to be called any moment.

She wonders what things would have been like without her depression. Would she have been happier? Of course. But there was more to it than that. Perhaps her and Jessica wouldn't have been this close, perhaps her siblings wouldn't be as caring, perhaps her father would talk of her mother in front of her.

A life without depression sounds hard to envision, too.

As horrible as it sounds, she can't will herself to remember a time she was without it. Granted, she can only remember clearly from the ages of twelve and up, but maybe that's how depression works. Maybe it blocks everything out. Maybe depression is like headphones.

Maybe the real world gets muffled, because all you can hear is the constant dull reminder in your ears that you aren't good enough, that you have no right to walk the earth, that there is no hope. And then, when the headphones fall out, it all comes out at once and everyone else hears the onslaught of pain now dangling from your chest at full volume.

She exhales slowly, telling herself to calm down as she looks around the room. Normally, someone would have called her name out by now, but today there was no such thing.

She glanced towards the board attached to the wall, the board that told patients which doctor would be in or out for the day. There were three _Kim_ son the board, and two of them were out.

"Hwang Miyoung."

She stood up, her feet shuffling as she reached the front desk. She wasn't called by the short and round woman, nor by the long and overly thin one; today it was the grey haired woman at the desk, whose eyes didn't match and whose nose stooped a little too low.

"Yes?"

"Doctor Kim isn't in today," She began, lips barely moving as she spoke. "But there are several others available; would you like to see one of them instead?"

Did she want another doctor?

God, no. How could she even have another doctor?

They wouldn't understand her; they wouldn't be able to relate to her. Instead of spinning their pen, they would use it to write, to analyse and annotate her every move. The mere thought of someone sneering down at her while they asked meaningless questions made her cringe.

She clicked her tongue quietly, smiling at the receptionist.

"That's fine. I'll just come back next week, thank you for your time."

* * *

Her footing was abysmal at best, one foot skidding across the rain-sodden pavement after another, barely keeping upright as she sprinted.

Rounding the corner, she slid to a stop in front of one of the two places she knew Taeyeon could possibly be. Obviously, it wasn't a very good bet, but it was worth a shot.

She opened the door to the diner, shaking her feet off as she stepped inside.

Music from the jukebox flowed freely into her ears, much better than the monotone beating of her heart from before. The booths were mostly full, each customer with a different expression of pleasantry on their face, one pair even playfully arguing over what song to play next.

The tune was soothing, yet had a nice bob to it that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Curiosity killed the cat, and so she walked over to the jukebox to see what was playing. _My Girl_ by _The Temptations_. She smiled, one of her Dad's favourites.

"Hey," She jumped at the voice, turning around to see the same blonde waitress as last time. "You're Taeng's friend, right?"

She doesn't know what to say at first, surely they could be considered friends, though she felt something much deeper was between the two of them, which she couldn't pinpoint either.

"Um, yeah." She shrugs, nodding. "I didn't see her around today; do you know where she might be?"

A sullen look falls over the blonde's face, and from the movements of her mouth, Tiffany deduces that she's playing with her tongue piercing while she thinks. She feels the girl's gaze scrutinize her, as if she's getting evaluated.

The girl takes out her notepad and pen, scribbling on it before handing it to Tiffany.

"She'll be here for the next hour or so, I'd assume."

Tiffany nods, taking the paper from her hands. The writing is a little hard to decipher, but she eventually realises the blotched ink is directions.

Once she looks up to thank the blonde, she sees a wary look on her face. She doesn't know what to make of it, and for a second, she's a little worried.

"Just," The girl sighs, looks down at her feet. "Just – tread lightly around her, okay?"

Tiffany nods, though she doesn't really understand what the blonde means.

The girl bows her head in thanks, beginning to turn on her heel, but Tiffany's mouth opens before her brain realises it.

"Wait," She says, and the waitress turns her head, cocks it to the side. Tiffany smiles, fiddling with her fingers. "Do you do take-away?"

* * *

The instructions were a little hard to read, and upon reaching her destination, Tiffany feels like she read them wrong and ended up somewhere else completely.

Because now she's wandering through a cemetery, reading crummy and messy instructions, a paper bag in her hands, and to top it all off, it looks like it's going to rain soon.

The grass is soppy underneath her feet, and she can feel water begin to seep through the soles of her shoes. Wind blows, as per usual, but it blows softly, just enough to waft her hair close to her eyes, but not enough that it annoys her.

It's practically quiet as she looks down at the crinkled paper once more, that is, until she hears the sound she shouldn't be familiar with, but is.

She looks up, unknowingly breaking into a run when she spots a crying blonde a few lots away. Her socks are wet now, and they're beginning to rub against the back of her heels; but she doesn't care, she needs to see if Taeyeon's okay.

She stops a metre or two away from the crying girl, unable to say anything. Her mouth is dry from all the running, her tongue hangs in her mouth as her teeth clench and she just watches Taeyeon for a moment.

She's not slumped, to Tiffany's surprise. In fact, it's quite the opposite; Taeyeon is sitting upright, her posture perfect and hands folded in her lap as she sniffles, almost like she's trying to be polite.

"Tae," She says, and she shuts her mouth quickly, realising she didn't really have anything else planned to say after that.

The blonde startles, turns around and looks at Tiffany with eyes so wide you'd think she'd been caught committing a crime.

"How−"

"You weren't there today," She bit her lip, mind wandering all the places it really shouldn't bother to wander to. "I was worried. So, I went to the diner, I thought you might be there. Hyoyeon – I think that's her name – gave me poorly written instructions and here I am."

"Oh."

She eyed the patch of grass next to Taeyeon, hesitating. It's not like she was at a friend's house and scared to sit on their couch, this was so much more personal, so much more intimate than she ever really expected.

"Can I ..?" She asks.

"Yeah, of course." Taeyeon moves over slightly, offering a weak smile as she pats the spot next to her. "Here."

She places the bag behind her, and kneels, head bowed. She doesn't look up at the grave, just feels her muscles twitch in discomfort as the wetness from the grass seeps into her jeans.

"So, is this – is this Leeteuk?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Taeyeon shake her head, lips twitching up in the slightest – though Tiffany doesn't know why she'd find that even remotely amusing.

"No, Teukkie is in a different cemetery."

She exhales, finally gaining enough courage to look at the grave, finding the single engraving of _Kim_ etched onto its surface. She wonders who it is, what importance they had in Taeyeon's life. She wonders about alternate universes again, and if this person who meant this much to Taeyeon would have made an impact in her other life.

"Fany, this is−" She watches Taeyeon take a breath, steadying herself as what looks like a proud smile crosses her face. "I'd like you to meet my father. Appa, this is Tiffany Hwang, the girl I told you about."

For a moment, she's a little dazed that Taeyeon mentioned her to anyone, let alone her father. She wonders if the blonde told him through prayer, though Taeyeon didn't really seem like a believer.

She realises Taeyeon has been looking at her, and it takes her a moment to click.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to meet you, sir." She clears her throat, feeling fingers slide through hers; though when she looks up, Taeyeon is just looking ahead at the grave. She feels a soft squeeze, reassuring her to be comfortable. "You know, your daughter, she's – she's really something, sir. You should be incredibly proud of her; she's the kindest and most beautiful soul that I know. But you probably already knew that, didn't you?"

She watches Taeyeon out of the corner of her eye again, and she sees tears well up, sees her cheeks flare in shyness and a fleeting smile grace her features as her nose twitches.

She feels Taeyeon lean closer to her, and for a second, she's too caught up in the way the girl's breath feels on her neck to comprehend that she's talking.

"I think it's time to leave, the worker here has been staring at me for the past fifteen minutes."

Tiffany quirks a brow, following Taeyeon's gaze to see that a man is indeed looking at them, but he quickly covers his tracks by raking the grass idly.

"I know you'd think he's checking me out, Appa, but we both know the wiles of men will never work on me." Tiffany laughs under her breath, the same squeezing feeling in her hand once more before Taeyeon reaches out with her free hand to gingerly touch the tombstone. "Happy birthday, Appa, I love you."

Taeyeon cleared her throat, sniffling one last time before beginning to stand up. While the blonde was brushing her knees off, Tiffany whipped her head back to stare directly into the middle of the stone.

"Sir, if it's not too much to ask, would you please say 'hi' to my mother for me?" She smiles, leaning closer to whisper. "Oh, and I promise to stay by your daughter's side and to never leave her alone, even if she wants to be a loner; because she means a lot to me."

She flashed the grave one last smile, hoping that would convince the man of her words before standing up and clasping Taeyeon's hand.

"Fany," She hears Taeyeon start, voice a little gravelly. "You didn't tell me your mother was−"

But Tiffany doesn't let her finish, just putting her index finger over the blonde's lips, hushing her. They're soft, plump, and Tiffany needs a moment to shake away the image of kissing her.

"I'll tell you later. But for now, it looks like you need comfort food and a hug." She holds up the paper bag, smiling. "I got you your favourite; now, let's go before it rains again."

The walk was silent, except for the pounding in Tiffany's ears. The same pounding that would increase when Taeyeon's thumb grazed over her skin, or if they lost balance somewhere along the way and ended up touching arms.

And especially when she caught Taeyeon looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

* * *

She internally thanks the heavens when she finds that Jessica isn't home, now able to avoid awkward confrontation. She opens the door a little wider, allowing Taeyeon to walk inside first as she pads towards the microwave to reheat what's inside the bag.

She stares as the numbers dwindle on the countdown, her mind unable to escape the thoughts of alternate universes. Perhaps she and Taeyeon would be friends, perhaps she wouldn't have met Taeyeon at all, perhaps in an alternate universe she could have feelings towards Taeyeon without it being something shameful.

The microwave beeps, bringing her out of her stupor.

She pours the contents into a bowl, making her way towards the dining area.

"You like photos, I see."

She whips her head to find Taeyeon inspecting the frames lining the walls, fireplace and end tables. Her hands reach for one in particular, and Tiffany's heart very well drops out of her chest when Taeyeon turns it around for them both to see.

It's a photo of her and Jessica, pressed close, the happy smiles on their faces that of pure adolescence.

"You're really happy in this one, it's like you're not even posing." She points to Jessica, quirking a brow. "And her, she's your best friend?"

Tiffany nods, placing the bowl on the dining table, beckoning Taeyeon over with her index finger. The blonde's face lights up as she sees the food, almost breaking out into a sprint.

"That's Jessica." She points back to the photo. "She actually lives here with me."

"She must be pretty great, then," Taeyeon smirks, picking up two fries from the bowl. "Even more so if she puts up with you."

Tiffany feigns shock, her hand on her heart and she just watches Taeyeon's tongue poke out. She dips one of the fries into the ketchup, throwing it at Taeyeon, who simply eats it after its hit her.

"She is pretty great, I couldn't ask for better."

"I'm also assuming she's the friend that you made cry?"

Tiffany looks down, fiddling with her fingers and shuffling her feet.

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything my patients say,"

She deflates a little after hearing that, beginning to get fed up with having to remind herself that she's Taeyeon's patient first, and friend second.

"Especially you, though."

"Hm?" She asks.

"Well, like I've said before, I find you to be one of the most interesting people I've ever met, and I absolutely love your company." She flicks her fringe from her eyes, and Tiffany has to repress the urge of tangling her fingers through the blonde strands. "I even consider you to have meaning in my life. Whether that be significant or not, that's up to your interpretation."

Tiffany doesn't look up, keeps her head down until she feels the blush go away. When she looks up again, she sees Taeyeon staring blankly at the fries, deep in thought about something.

She wishes she could read minds. Then again, it's hard enough to read her own.

Taeyeon's gaze breaks away from the bowl, her eyes locking onto Tiffany's. They soften before she talks, like a stormy ocean of onyx settling into a gentle tide.

"You never told me about your mother, you know."

Tiffany feels the words slice her, and though she knows Taeyeon didn't intend to hurt her, it still stung.

She never really told anyone about her mother, she never felt the need to. She didn't want people to judge her, to think her mother was some excuse to push all her burdens on; she didn't want people to think her depression was because of her mother, she deserved more than that.

"My mother isn't the reason I'm depressed."

Taeyeon seems a little shocked at her words, her eyebrows rising slightly and she even flinched a little. Tiffany hopes she didn't seem too harsh.

"I didn't think she was,"

The air between them is a little awkward now, Tiffany thinks. She was sure they were both thinking of what to say next, though she didn't open her mouth and just waited for Taeyeon to continue.

"Was she – how did −" The blonde sighs, not even remotely interested in the fries anymore. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She thinks, not entirely sure.

"What do you want to know?"

"I think," Taeyeon leans forward, forearms resting on the table as her hands clasp together. "It's more the question of, what are you willing to tell me?"

She feels a tug in her lips, thinking back to her first session where Taeyeon had said the same thing. Perhaps it will always be a game of push and pull.

"She liked the name Tiffany," Was all she could start with.

She felt like Taeyeon needed to know that, like it needed to be said, because it was a part of her, and you should always know all the parts of something broken before putting it back together.

"It's what she wanted to name me, but Daddy ended up winning the game of rock, paper, scissors."

"Is that why you changed it from Miyoung?"

She nods.

"She would scold me, but she would never stay mad at me. She told me picking at my nails was a bad habit, but she did it too. She used to take my siblings and I out while my father was at work, she'd take us to the park, or for a picnic, anything that made us happy, really."

Normally, she would cry at this point, but no tears came. This is how far her depression has come, she thinks, now it's just reduced her to an emotionless shell of what she used to be.

Taeyeon's fingers glide through her hair, sweeping her bangs from her eyes, making her look at her.

Her entire expression is soft, and Tiffany hears her pulse thud in her ears, feels her tongue become heavy, begins wishing she remembered what it is exactly about Taeyeon that makes her so crazy.

Taeyeon doesn't move her hand, it stays in Tiffany's hair, pulls her closer, even. In an instant, Tiffany is in Taeyeon's arms, leaning into her on an angle that should be awkward, but somehow feels as if she's slotting into place.

She belongs here, she realises. Her head resting on Taeyeon's shoulder, tilted inwards so her nose is almost against her neck, arms around her; she belongs here. She belongs here, trapped between fantasy and reality, dangling the fine line of professionalism and passion.

Taeyeon's arms tighten around her, the floral perfume she always wears flooding into Tiffany's nose, clouding her better judgement. Her hair tickles Tiffany's forehead, and she wonders if hers is tickling Taeyeon's neck. She feels Taeyeon's fingers dig in a little against the small of her back, and she really can't help herself anymore.

"I meant if before, you know." Tiffany says, her mouth acting before her brain. "When I was talking to your father, you really are something, Tae."

"Thanks, you're, uh," Taeyeon laughs, breath mingling against the outside of her ear. "You're more than something."

Tiffany pulls back from the hug upon hearing that, a devilish smile crossing her face as her mind ticks away.

"Oh," She starts, her smile growing after she sees Taeyeon's nose twitch as she twirls the ring. "And what's 'more than something'?"

Taeyeon stops twirling the ring, shaking her head as she looks back to Tiffany.

"You'll find out eventually."

"C'mon, you know that's not fair." She retaliates, playfully hitting Taeyeon on the shoulder.

"I'm not a very fair person, I thought you knew that."

She folds her arms, pouting. "I think you just enjoy confusing me a bit too much."

Taeyeon leans closer, a hand dangling extremely close to her thigh. Tiffany nearly quivers, instead biting her lip.

"Think of it as keeping you on your toes."

She fails to realise she's leaning closer, too.

"Maybe I don't want to be on my toes."

"Well," Taeyeon starts, and Tiffany can see her tongue poke out to lick her lips. God, that looked nice. "Where would you rather be?"

Tiffany bites the inside of her cheek in thought, her mind racing with all kinds of ideas.

"I can think of _many_ other places I'd rather be."

"That's not answering my question, Fany."

Tiffany smiles a little, leaning to the blonde's ear to whisper her response.

The door bursts open, a frazzled Jessica now in its wake.

Tiffany jumps back, cheeks aflame as she looks at Jessica like a teenager who's been caught by her father.

"Tiff, I need to vent to you and −" Jessica pauses, and Tiffany watches her friend take in the situation with thoughtful eyes. "Oh, hello; I didn't know you had company."

Tiffany clears her throat.

"Uh, yeah. Jessi, this is Taeyeon," She looks at the blonde, realising her eyes were still clouded, a blush as bright as hers covering her face. "Tae, this is Jessica."

Taeyeon practically jumps from her chair, bowing a full ninety degrees at the brunette.

"Nice to meet you; I was, um, I was just leaving."

"Nice to meet you, too." Jessica says, tilting her head at Tiffany.

She doesn't respond, just standing from her chair and toying with the hem of her shirt.

"I'll, uh, I'll walk you out." She croaks, leading Taeyeon outside, watching Jessica give her a look that says _be quick_.

To say Tiffany was nervous would be an understatement.

"Sorry about that," She laughed a little, not knowing why. "She never really learnt how to knock properly."

"That's – it's alright, no worries." Taeyeon sways from side to side, and Tiffany wonders what she's thinking about. "So, um, how's your tattoo feeling?"

"It's not sore anymore, just a little tender."

"Ah, so I shouldn't do this?" The blonde asks, poking her neck.

"Ouch! Tae, don't." She whines, turning slightly to shield herself.

But Taeyeon easily turns with her, poking her again and again.

Tiffany reaches for her arms, trying to stop her. Amidst the giggles erupting from the two of them, she manages to catch Taeyeon's wrists, beginning to jostle against her.

"You know, I may have gone easy on you last time," Taeyeon winks, almost making her lose balance. "But don't think I will this time."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"So, if you were going easy back then, I shouldn't be able to do this now?"

She pushes, but Taeyeon smirks before hooking a leg around her calf, sending her spiralling against the wall.

She looks up, the force not hurting her at all. Or maybe it is, she can't tell, not right now. Not when Taeyeon is looking at her like that.

"Fany," Taeyeon says, voice almost a whisper.

She can't remember how to blink. "Yes?"

Taeyeon says nothing, her lips curving upwards and her nose twitching as Tiffany watches her lean closer. She has no idea what's happening, no idea what is possessing Taeyeon to lean closer, no idea why her mind is even still working at this point.

She feels Taeyeon's breath ghosting over her lips, and she feels her eyes flutter shut, everything going black and she feels like she's not even real.

Taeyeon is just so close, so _fucking_ close that she can almost feel the anticipation in the gap between them.

But her eyes open as quickly as they shut, the sound of fists against the door breaking them from their trance.

"Tiff, flirt later, please; I really need you right now."

The sigh Taeyeon lets out crashes against Tiffany's mouth, and she almost hums at the warm feeling. The blonde's grip loosens, a disappointed look on her face that Tiffany can only imagine mirrors her own.

"Alright, Jessi." She roughly grabs Taeyeon's hand, lacing their fingers together urgently. "I'm so sorry, but if I don't go in now −"

"It's alright, no need to apologise. You should go in, though, it does sound like she needs to vent, take it from a psychologist."

She laughs a little, feeling Taeyeon's thumb rub over the back of her hand.

"Look, she'll be on a date tomorrow night, the house will be free."

Taeyeon raises a brow, a smile Tiffany can't decipher rising to her lips.

"Are you asking me what I think you are?"

"You're not the only one willing to break some rules, Tae."

"You know, I think I'm becoming a bad influence on you."

"God, I hope so." Tiffany says, looking into her eyes. She almost forgot what she was going to say. "But really, come over tomorrow around seven, she'll hopefully be gone by then."

"Alright, I'll be here."

With one last squeeze, Taeyeon lets go of Tiffany's hand and leaves, her perfume still floating around the hallway like a haze.

She huffs, walking back into the apartment with a frown on her face.

"Jessica Jung, I am going to kill you for that!"

Her friend leapt from the couch, immediately beginning a chase between the two.

Just as they rounded the kitchen counter, Tiffany caught her, and the two toppled onto the floor in a tangle of limbs.

"You'll thank me later, Tiff."

"And _why_ would I do that?"

"Because I listened in," Jessica dodged the slap sent her way. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. But trust me; I know you two will have plenty of time to, you know, _catch up_."

"Huh?"

"Let's just say I'll stay at Yuri's tomorrow night, so you two can have some privacy."

"Yah!" This time, the slap landed. "It's not like that."

Jessica untangled herself from Tiffany, and she watched the brunette nod with a sarcastic expression on her face.

"Sure, I'll believe that the next morning when I come home. Until then, though, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to assume that's exactly what you're doing."

Tiffany pouts, "I'm still going to kill you, you know."

A fond smile crosses Jessica's face, her hand coming out to ruffle Tiffany's hair the way she knows she hates it.

"I know, but it'll have to wait until after tomorrow, you're not the only one who has a girl to impress."


	12. Love & Hate

To Tiffany, the word _nostalgia_ had a new meaning. Nostalgia had become her imagination. She was stuck here, in a labyrinth of darkening clouds and gloomy skies, thinking about how one day she'll be able to escape it all, and how astounding it would be to get away.

Its imagining that keeps her going, keeps her sane, keeps her alive.

But the problem is, she never does it.

That's why it was nostalgic, because she's using the future to free herself from the present.

The present doesn't deserve its name, she thinks, because presents are something nice, something to be cheery about, something that's wrapped up in a pretty pink bow and given to you for a special occasion.

And sometimes, Tiffany has to remind herself that not every day is a special occasion.

Maybe that's why it's called the present, she rethinks, because some presents are nice, like the ones she gets from her father, the kind wrapped in pretty pink bows; and others are horrid, the poorly wrapped ones given to her from a distant relative that rants on about her being a lot bigger than the last time she saw her.

Her head starts to hurt from all the thinking, so she just summarises that it's called the present because it's fickle and it's either good or bad, and that there's no in between.

She rolls over, the covers tangling between her legs and she checks the time on her phone. She wonders if Jessica would be up for a conversation; then again, she wonders if Jessica would even be awake.

She half shrugs, maybe Yuri would be here already.

As she throws the covers off and begins to stand, she realises that Yuri is good for Jessica. In the past two months they've been dating, Yuri has never once been impolite or harsh to either her or Jessica. Not that that was the reason for her being good for Jessica.

No, she thinks as she stumbles towards the bathroom, there's something about the two of them that's almost mechanical. They were opposites, of sorts; Jessica was lazy, a little too serious at times, and hardworking, Yuri was hyper, silly, and from what Tiffany had seen, utterly hilarious. But maybe that's why they worked, they balance each other out; Yuri needs to be reminded of when to be serious, and Jessica needs a burst of energy in her life.

She squeezes the toothpaste onto the brush, dipping it under the faucet three times before turning the water off.

She wonders if that's how relationships work, if the pair has to balance each other out, or if they can be so outrageously scaled that the only similar thing about them is the love they share for each other.

Maybe love is like a seesaw, maybe you don't have to be perfectly balanced with each other, maybe you just have to be strong enough to pick them up when they're on the ground.

She spits, rinsing the sink and applying more toothpaste.

Inevitably, her thoughts wander to Taeyeon, and she finds it hard to imagine them on a seesaw together; but for a different reason, she feels like Taeyeon would be the one who shakes the seesaw, who jumps up and down with a sinister smile on her face until Tiffany falls off.

She feels like Taeyeon is the type that would get off the seesaw and help her up with her bare hands, who will wrap her arms around her and tell her that even though there will be ups and downs, that she'll always be there to pick her up.

The smell of bacon brought her out of her thoughts, the intoxicating scent making her forget all about her toothbrush as she walked towards it.

"Good morning," Jessica said, smiling at her from over the countertop.

Tiffany didn't reply, her mouth still full of minty foam. She held up her finger, running to the bathroom and spitting it out before coming back.

"Morning," She mumbled, attempting to flatten her bed hair. "Since when did you cook?"

Jessica scowled, "I'll have you know I'm a great cook."

"Then why can I smell something burning?"

Her friend's eyes widened, jaw slack as she turned towards the pan, the bacon sizzling soundly.

"You're hilarious." She said dryly.

Tiffany smiled, reaching over and pinching her cheek.

"And you're going to sleep with Yuri tonight."

"What?"

Tiffany shrugged, "I thought we were just saying things that were obvious."

Her head shot back as Jessica flicked her forehead.

"Yah, watch it." She warned, walking towards the stove and flipping the bacon. She did it messily, and an uneven amount of times; Tiffany had to look away. "Besides, who says I was going to sleep with her?"

"Oh, please," She hopped onto the counter, feet knocking against the cupboards underneath as she swayed. "Surely you're not playing innocent with me right now."

"I'll have you know that I'm very innocent."

She raised a brow at Jessica's straight expression.

"Right," She smiled a little. "And I'm the Queen of Narnia."

"What?"

"Now I thought we were just saying things that aren't true at all."

She dodged the slap that went her way, barely.

"Last warning."

"Okay okay, calm down." She raised her hands in defeat, watching Jessica waltz back over towards the bacon and turning the stove off. "Why are you getting so worked up though?"

"Because I −" Jessica paused, not starting again until the bacon was served up. "Because Yuri is more than some toy to fuck."

"Oh, I get it." She slid off the counter, following the brunette to the dining table.

The chair was cold against her uncovered thighs, but it was a nice contrast to the blistering air coming from the heater.

"Get what?" Her friend asked through a mouthful of food.

"That was your backward way of saying you love her."

Jessica nearly choked.

"That's −" She breathed, eyes glassy from the lack of oxygen. "It's not like that at all."

Tiffany took a bite of the bacon, loving the feeling of it melting in her mouth.

"Sounds like my little talk to you didn't do any good."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, it's obvious that you haven't told her yet," She swallowed. "Otherwise, you would've been screaming it from the rooftops. Unless,"

"Unless what?"

She smiled, "Unless you're going to tell her tonight."

Jessica stilled for a moment before picking up another piece of bacon, but Tiffany saw it, she saw it all.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A knock sounded on the door, and despite appearances, Tiffany was the one who got up and answered.

"Hey,"

"Hey to you too," She replied, even smiling a little at a nervous looking Yuri. Normally the two of them were totally calm; it made her wonder what either of them were planning.

She let Yuri inside, watching the two interact with each other.

Yuri kissed her forehead in a greeting, Jessica blushed back. She sat on the seat next to Jessica's, and pulled the brunette onto her lap before tickling her sides. Jessica pouted, and Yuri kissed her, replacing it with a smile.

Tiffany found herself grinning, turning out of the doorway and heading towards her bedroom.

And for the first time in her entire existence, she thinks that she just witnessed two people telling each other they love them, without them saying any words at all.

* * *

She wonders how love is shown. Whether it's through touches, grazes of fingertips or threading of hands; whether it's through stolen glances or shared eye contact, maybe even split second looks that no one but the two of them see; whether its shown through words or pictures or just the simplicity of your heart racing just that little bit faster or thudding just that little bit slower.

Maybe it's all of those things; maybe it's none at all.

Maybe love is something that can't be defined, something that is so infinite that not even all the stars in the galaxy could outnumber it. Maybe it's so incredibly simple that it can't actually be put into words, because words just complicate it.

"You think too much."

She instantly snaps out of it, her head turning towards Yuri, who is sitting cross legged on the couch, waiting for Jessica to come out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

Yuri smiles, the kind of smile that understands; which was odd, because Tiffany was sure that she didn't understand at all.

"You know, from past experience, I've found it easier to let other people know what you're thinking about," Her voice was a little quieter than before, "That way, you won't have so many thoughts inside, it's better to have a smaller crowd in your head."

"It's nothing." She shrugs one shoulder.

"Try me, you'll find that I'm a lot more understanding than you expect."

She ponders on it for a moment, wondering if Yuri would get it at all. She looks like she would. She can't put her finger on it, but there's a dull speck in Yuri's eyes, one that's hidden very well, but its there, and it's dull, and it's almost sad.

"If we're being specific, I was thinking about love."

"Ah," Yuri nods, a few strands of hair falling into her face. "Heavy thinking or light?"

She shrugs again, "A bit of both, actually."

"Go on."

"How do you think love is shown?" She asks.

Yuri doesn't say anything at first, just blinks slowly and stares at her for a moment, and she wonders if maybe that was a little too heavy for someone she only met a couple months ago.

"Love is shown," She starts, but doesn't finish, and Tiffany thinks that maybe Yuri doesn't know how to answer, because she sure doesn't.

She doesn't press Yuri, doesn't push her to answer. She just lets the silence hang between them, as if each second passing is another word to string a sentence together that they may both understand.

Yuri opens her mouth to talk, but no words come out.

Jessica has since left her room, now standing before the both of them and asking if she looks okay while she twirls.

She looks at Yuri, who still has her mouth open, and wonders if she had anything to say at all, or if Jessica had simply knocked all of the words out of her. She looked like her breath had been taken away; and as she stood up to take Jessica into her arms, she looks like she'll never need to take another breath again.

With the two of them standing together, in their own little blissful bubble of a world, Tiffany realises, Yuri didn't need to answer her question.

It was answered as soon as Jessica had walked into the room.

* * *

Around an hour after they left, Tiffany had managed to clean the entire apartment and make herself as presentable as she possibly could, even if it meant burning her hand on the curling iron twice.

At exactly seven o'clock, a knock sounded at the door, rousing Tiffany from her daydreaming.

She opened the door, seeing a smile so bright on Taeyeon's face that she barely recognised the blonde.

She wanted to say _hi_ , wanted to say something, anything. But nothing more than air leaves her as her eyes roam greedily over the girl on her doorstep.

She dresses nothing like she does in the workplace, Tiffany noticed. Her hair was loose, wavy, even a little dishevelled, falling over her shoulders which were clad in a denim jacket, a ripped white tee underneath.

She practically stared at the small portion of skin showing between the end of her shirt and the start of her black jeans, the button and belt loops providing a secure barrier, not allowing her eyes to travel any further south.

"Are you going to let me in or are you just going to gawk at me the whole night?" Taeyeon asks, a hand resting on her hip.

Tiffany traces her eyes back upwards, feeling heat rise to her cheeks at the sight of Taeyeon's smug smirk.

"Shut up." Is all she can mutter, opening the door wider and letting the chuckling blonde inside.

When she shuts the door and turns around, she sees Taeyeon just standing in between the lounge and dining area, eyes scanning the apartment.

She walks towards her, eventually coming to stand in front of her. She realises she's a little taller than Taeyeon, her eye level at the cowlick of her blonde fringe – it's not much of a difference, but it worries her somehow, makes her feel like she has to be the one in charge from now on.

"You cleaned."

She raised a brow at her words, her head tilting to the side.

"It's just an observation," The blonde continues, brushing past Tiffany as she makes herself at home on the couch. "Would you like to join me? It is your home, after all."

She looks at the couch, seeing that Taeyeon has sprawled herself out so that there's no room for her to sit. Though, she doesn't want to sit on a lone chair, either, nor the beanbag.

"I can't really join you if you take up all the room, you know."

Taeyeon smiles a smile that Tiffany doesn't know, but at the same time, knows all too well. The blonde pats the tops of her thighs, looking as innocently as she can at her.

Tiffany takes the bait, planting herself on Taeyeon's lap.

She doesn't look at her, she's not even facing her, yet she can feel Taeyeon's eyes burning holes into her, and she's not sure if it's a good or bad thing.

"You know, its common courtesy to acknowledge the guest when they visit your home."

"Is it now?" She asks, turning her head even further away from Taeyeon.

She instantly regrets it.

Because Taeyeon places her hands on her hips, spinning her so that they face one another.

She's not sure how it happens, when it happens, or why it happens – but Tiffany feels herself burn, no, _singe_ at the feeling of Taeyeon's lukewarm hands accidentally slipping inside the hem of her shirt as she manoeuvres her; she feels her face reach a temperature that it's never reached before, feels something tug at the very middle of her being, and actually _feels_ her body agreeing with Taeyeon's hands.

Without even realising she's done it, she's managed to sit astride Taeyeon, hands resting on either side of their hips, her mouth hanging in what she should assume is shock, but she feels like both of them know it's the exact opposite.

Shock has nothing to do with them anymore, nothing between them was accidental. Sure, it may seem it, but Tiffany knows the both of them are strategic, knows the both of them have mapped out every little move they want to make, and she definitely knows that Taeyeon sitting on her couch like this, adjusting their position like this, and rubbing her thumbs in circles was _no accident_.

And yet when any of these things happen, though her mind knows what's happening, her body still reacts so violently, so enslaved by Taeyeon's actions, that she begins to wonder if she is clairvoyant but her body isn't.

She looks down, only to find Taeyeon's hands completely stationary, not even her thumbs were moving. Her own pair of hands were gripping firmly at the cushion covers of the couch, nails sinking so roughly that it was almost balled up between each of her fingers.

Taeyeon's shirt has ridden up since their position change, and Tiffany could clearly see her navel and the strong outline of abdominals surrounding it.

She licked her lips, her breathing becoming heavier for reasons she just doesn't know, and musters up enough courage to finally look at Taeyeon.

Taeyeon's face mirrors what she assumes to be her own face, though hers is much more controlled, and dare she say it, much calmer.

Her hair was falling into her eyes, and for the first time, Tiffany didn't have the urge to tell her to get a haircut – perhaps it was the new angle, perhaps it was because she was sitting on top of her, or perhaps it was because Taeyeon's thumbs had started a new pattern into her hip bones; she honestly didn't know why, but she found the shaggy, messy fringe in Taeyeon's eyes to be the most alluring thing she'd ever seen.

That is, until she sees Taeyeon's eyes dart down to her lips, then flickering upwards to lock eyes with her, tongue licking the corner of her bottom lip.

She feels like she could explode just looking at her.

"Fany," The blonde half whispers, and its then that Tiffany breaks out of her Taeyeon fuelled daze and sees the world how it really is.

Time had passed while they were arranged like this, how much she did not know, but she assumed quite some time, because the moonlight was starting to splay across Taeyeon's features, making her look ethereal, and the light patter of rain can be heard against the ceiling, and she wonders for a moment if this was all part of Taeyeon's plans too.

"Fany," Taeyeon tries again, and this time, her voice is clearer, though much lower. "I need to ask you something."

She's a little scared by the prospect for a moment, because normally Taeyeon's questions are so meticulous, so intricate that she doesn't even realise she's getting psychoanalysed until its already happened.

But she swallows, takes a deep breath, and nods.

"Are you uncomfortable with sitting like this?"

She almost laughs at the question, because surely Taeyeon would have realised she was far more than comfortable by now. She shakes her head, a tug in her lips and she stops gripping the covers so hard.

She wants to shake her palms out (the clenching had cramped them somewhat), but instead just lets them rest idly beside the blonde's hips, waiting for the right moment.

Taeyeon sits up little by little, making her fall backwards with every shuffling movement they make. It should be awkward, perhaps humorous, but it's nothing of the sort. Tiffany just stares at Taeyeon in wonder as she eases the two of them up with a strength she didn't know she had and just waits, waits until they're both sitting upright, with her feet brushing against Taeyeon's calves and Taeyeon's hands sliding up to rest on her waist.

"Are you uncomfortable with this?"

She shakes her head again.

Taeyeon smirks a small smirk, one that could easily be missed; the moonlight was now sharpening the blonde's features, her messy hair falling in front of her eyes on a different angle now, but Tiffany thinks she likes this angle more, from this angle it makes her look fiendish.

Her own hands find their way to the belt loops in Taeyeon's jeans, and she curls her index fingers through the two front loops, unknowingly drawing Taeyeon closer.

They are merely a breath or two apart, and somehow it's too much and not enough at the same time. Tiffany can feel Taeyeon's hands roaming across her back, and before she even realises it, she's leaning backwards.

Taeyeon guides her so simply, so seamlessly that she thinks that Taeyeon's body is thirty years ahead of her mind, or maybe both her mind and body are that far ahead and she's just lagging behind.

There was no more moonlight on Taeyeon's face, just the playful glimmer and reflection of the photo frames dancing across her cheeks and nose, along with the gentle gleam of rain from the windows, it was entertaining and mesmerising all at the same time to just look at the blonde.

In that moment, Tiffany felt like she could look at Taeyeon for a thousand years, and she'd still want more time to stare.

Taeyeon's hands weren't on her back anymore; they had skimmed along her sides, one resting on the side of her thigh, the other holding her jaw and neck.

"Tiffany, I need to know now if you don't want this," She sighs, and it crashed against her lips like a wave of fire. "Because I'm not going to waste my last rule on something that might not happen."

"I," She tries, but nothing follows, just air. But she sees Taeyeon's eyes, she sees her figuring her out, and she knows that Taeyeon knows that she wants this.

It all happens so quickly, and she doesn't quite remember the moment that she started thinking again.

"Wait," She breathes, and immediately she feels Taeyeon pull away, though her eyes are too heavy to actually look at her yet.

Taeyeon's scent is still flowing freely around her, making her head buzz and thinking has just become one of the hardest things in the universe to do.

"I'm sorry," She hears Taeyeon's voice, opens her eyes.

They're both sitting up now, and Taeyeon is twirling the ring at a speed Tiffany has never seen before.

She looks down, inhales.

She opens her mouth to tell Taeyeon that she shouldn't be sorry, that she's craving this just as much as her, that Taeyeon should just kiss her senseless for the rest of the night and forever and maybe even longer.

But Taeyeon could lose her job for this, she could lose everything she worked so hard for, it could all just go down the drain, all because of her.

She didn't want to cause Taeyeon that kind of pain. Not now, not ever. So, she does what she has to do, not what she ever wanted to do.

"Maybe this −" She feels her throat close over; even her body is telling her not to do it. But she has to go with what is right, not what is easy; for Taeyeon to live a safe life, Tiffany has to stay her patient, and Taeyeon has to stay her psychologist. Reality is bleak, but at least it's safe. "Maybe this rule should stay unbroken."

Taeyeon's nose twitches, her breath hitches, and if she looks hard enough, she can see that Taeyeon's eyes are narrow, cleared up and made of steel.

"Of course, I understand."

She knows Taeyeon is angry at her. She's angry at herself too, she feels horrible, this was not how she wanted this night to end.

"Taeyeon, let me explain."

She watches Taeyeon get up with an open mouth but no words, even chases after her as she heads for the door.

But it's no use, before she can get any words out, Taeyeon has already left, her trembling silhouette already beginning to merge with the murky shadows of the hallway.

She closes the door shut, leans her head against it.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, but her heart clenches in response. Her head pounds, thoughts racing around so much that she feels them stab at the back of her eyes, making them sting.

She feels the coldness of the door run against her forehead as she slides downwards, the warmth of her palms replacing it when she lands to the floor, head in her hands.

She cries, the warm wetness coating her fingers and palms, leaking out and flowing down her wrist and landing on her thighs.

She hates her stupid mouth, she hates her stupid brain, hates her stupid decisions.

She hates herself.


	13. Final Rule

Jessica didn't come home that night, and Tiffany didn't want to blame her, though it was clear that without the girl's presence, things had only gotten worse. Without Jessica, there was only an empty apartment, and no matter what room she went into, she was slammed with memories of what only occurred hours ago.

If walls could talk, hers would scream of utter self loathing and missed opportunities.

Daylight broke at five-fifty-six in the morning, and the sun finally rose completely at six-thirty-nine, she had checked the clock twice to make sure. The time wasn't relevant, actually, nothing was relevant. She just liked watching the sun rise, she liked the sky becoming a canvas with an array of purple, orange, and cyan; it was oddly rejuvenating to watch.

She heard the lock on the door click open at nine-twenty-four, and seconds afterwards Jessica's nimble body had clumsily made its way inside the apartment.

It didn't take long for the smile on her friend's face to be replaced with concern and worry, and Tiffany despised herself for taking away her smile.

When Jessica asked her what was wrong, she merely shook her head and looked down, biting her trembling lip.

When Jessica had cracked her facade, she pounced onto her with so much force that they toppled over onto the couch. Tiffany's head was firmly planted into the crook of Jessica's neck, nose damp against the skin between the base of her neck and her shoulder.

As Jessica's arms coil around her, she hopes that her friend doesn't ask what's bothering her. As she coos into her ear, she hopes that Jessica will be able to help her. As she kisses the top of her head and tries to soothe her, she hopes that what she did wasn't the wrong decision.

But mostly, she hopes that she doesn't reek of her own bitter disappointment.

* * *

In novels, love is meant to seem like this fantastic emotion that can rise you above clouds and past the heavens themselves, it seems like something that can beat all odds and defeat anything that stands in its way, it seems worthy of its title.

But Tiffany wonders if novels ever really talk about the true sides of love, the sides only few know.

She wonders if novels elaborate on the hurt, the kind of hurt where you can feel it settle in your bones to the point where you feel heavy, the kind of hurt that makes every breath feel like a sigh, the kind of hurt that makes it difficult to get out of bed in the morning.

Or perhaps the pain, or the suffering, or the unrequited longing and desire. Do novels ever really elaborate on that?

Of course not, she realises, because novels are just that; novels. They are works of art, though are pure fiction. They are an escape for those who know the true sides of love, or even for those who are just plain ignorant. They are pages and pages full of hope and peace and everything a human could possibly want from love.

"Tiff," She looks up from her book, eyes focusing on Jessica's slouched form. "Fix your face."

"Excuse me?"

"Your face," She repeated, drawing a circle directed at Tiffany. "Fix it; you'll get wrinkles if you keep it like that."

"Was that your backward way of telling me that you're concerned for me?"

Jessica shrugged. "If you want to believe that."

"So, you're not concerned for me?"

Jessica looked at her, eyes so straightforward that Tiffany nearly flinched.

"For me to be concerned, I would need to actually know what the hell is going on." She exhaled, or sighed, Tiffany wasn't sure from this distance. "Unfortunately, I do not have such a luxury."

It stung a little, she'll admit. Jessica being like this had always stung, but she was right, she didn't give her friend that luxury, she never told her what was going on.

She was scared of saying she didn't want to wake up again.

"You never said that you wanted to know." She muttered weakly.

"So you just assumed that I didn't want to know why you were crying, that I didn't want to know why you were acting like you were two months ago, that I didn't want to know why you went back to square one all of a sudden?"

She dropped the book, along with her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Tiff, you don't need to apologise. I just – I worry about you, okay? I worry about you a lot, I want you to be happy again and want you to stay happy. I want to help you, as well, but I can't if you don't tell me what's wrong."

She breathed in, looked up, found that Jessica had moved from the beanbag and was now on the couch, knee bumping against hers as she sat beside her.

"Taeyeon and I nearly kissed."

"Nearly?"

"Yeah, I mean, we were going to, but then I – well, I just thought about everything and my mind wouldn't shut up, everything was just happening so quickly that my head couldn't keep up with it and you know what it's like when that happens to me and−"

She paused, tried again, slower this time.

"I just thought that it would be wrong of me to kiss her, because she's worked so hard to get this far in her life and I would be ruining it if anyone found out."

"Why would it ruin it?"

"Because she's my psychologist and I'm her patient," It was as simple as that, clear as day, by-the-book. "And if it's like that, then we're not meant to be."

Jessica snorted.

"You really believe that?"

She looked down at her hands; every single nail was painted pink, except one.

"I have to."

"Then you're more of an idiot than I thought."

Tiffany looked up, unable to help herself, and just waited for her friend to continue.

"Look, Tiff, I love you, but sometimes, you are just so dense that it hurts."

"How do you mean?"

"It's obvious that Taeyeon wants you just as much as you want her, if you don't believe that by now then you really are an idiot. It seems to me that she likes you enough to put her job on the line, and that's an incredibly big sacrifice, but she's willing to make it if it means she can have you. What's that telling you?"

"I don't know."

"And by what you've told me, I'm assuming you're the one who backed out of the kiss?"

She nodded.

"Alright, I'm going to put this into perspective for you. Think of how much you like Taeyeon, of how she makes you feel and all that other sappy crap. Now, imagine if she was the one who told you to wait a second. How would you feel?"

"I," She hesitated, biting her lip. "I wouldn't want to talk to her, because now she knows how I feel, and it would confuse me because she gave me all the signals to go for it."

"Exactly."

"I'm an idiot."

"I'm not going to argue with that," Jessica rubbed her knee in circles, and though it wasn't a hug, it felt just as warm as one. "But idiots can fix things, you know."

"How do I fix this, though?"

She ruffled Tiffany's hair just the way she hates it, and smiled.

"That's for the idiot to decide."

Jessica stands when her phone rings, and without even looking Tiffany knows its Yuri. She wonders if either of them had told the other that they love them yet.

She watches Jessica flounce into her room, and maybe, she thinks, that she's not the only idiot in the apartment.

* * *

The first week was bearable, awkward, but bearable. There were pregnant pauses, clearing of throats, and a professionalism between her and Taeyeon that was unbeknownst before now.

It was eerily, actually, to Tiffany, because of the professionalism between them. It wasn't like Taeyeon, it wasn't like her, it wasn't like _them_. If either of them were going to be professional, it certainly wouldn't be alongside the other.

It makes her anxious, to know that it's all suddenly been swept from underneath her feet, all because Taeyeon didn't let her explain.

Maybe if Taeyeon let her explain, things would be different, maybe Taeyeon would understand her reasoning and accept it, and they could both move forward. Maybe they would pine over each other until one of them snapped. Maybe they would slowly grow to resent each other.

Who was she kidding; none of this was happening because Taeyeon didn't let her explain.

It was happening because she was an idiot. An idiot who told the woman she yearns for to wait, because despite the situation and whatever angle you look at it from, she was the selfish one. Taeyeon was (is?) willing to put her career on the line for her, and she told her to wait because she didn't want it to be her fault, because she didn't want that weight resting on her shoulders.

She was selfish because she never asked if Taeyeon was uncomfortable with what was happening, because she told Taeyeon to wait before she could even get her point across, because she's a complete idiot who thinks too much about the most simplistic of things.

"We've run out of time," Taeyeon states simply, and again, her head makes it more complicated. It sounded like there was an underlying edge to her voice, hiding under the blankets of softness. "I would love to show you the door, but you'd probably interrupt me before I could even do anything."

It hurt, the words, the tone, everything. It all hurt.

Taeyeon hurt, thinking of Taeyeon hurt, thinking of Taeyeon's voice, eyes, hands; thinking of the week before when she was breathless and underneath Taeyeon, who was so worried that she'd overstepped a boundary that was never set, thinking of when she told her to wait.

Thinking of her shadow blending with the shadows of the hallway.

Yeah, it all hurt.

She gets up, every step towards the door agonising; only because she's aware of the fact that this is the first time she's done it alone.

She takes a glance at Taeyeon, who isn't looking in her direction, who just stares at the ring while she spins it, who looks so deep in thought that she might be lost inside her own mind.

She wonders if Taeyeon hurts, too.

* * *

To say that the second week into whatever was happening between them was the worst of her year would be an understatement. Her and Taeyeon tiptoed around each other, words were barely spoken – and even if they were, they were to see if she had improved.

It was almost humorous, actually, the fact that the very reason for her improvement was now her reason for not improving at all. If she had read about this in a novel, she would find it ironic, maybe even laughable; because the two characters she would have been reading about were so obviously infatuated with each other, to the point that she would have just screamed at the novel for them to kiss and make up.

But she was not a character, nor was Taeyeon, and this was not a novel.

This was real life, where everything is a lot harder than it has to be, and where silence and secret longing were the only solutions she could think of.

"Tiffany,"

She took a chance, glanced at Taeyeon to find her looking right back at her, something brewing behind her stoic expression, and she wasn't sure if Taeyeon had found another solution or not.

"What is it?"

"It's been thirty minutes, you only have another thirty left, and neither of us have talked about a single thing since we bid each other hello."

She sighed, looked down, of course Taeyeon was just worrying about her job.

"And I guess what I'm trying to ask is," She could hear the hesitance in Taeyeon's voice, and without looking up; she knew the blonde was biting the right corner of her lip. "Do you have anything you want to say?"

She had plenty she wanted to say.

She shook her head, "No."

"Are you sure?" Taeyeon pressed. "I feel like you want to explain something."

"What do you mean?"

Taeyeon shrugged. "It's written all over your face."

She watched Taeyeon rise from her chair, watched her saunter over with a confidence she forgot the blonde possessed, watched her sit down across from her.

"Here," She pointed between Tiffany's eyebrows. "There's this little dent here, and you only get it when you think too much about something, which is a lot of the time."

She drags her finger down, only a little, just to the bridge of her nose.

"And here, it crinkles when you worry."

Her index finger traces towards the hollow of her ear.

"And your jaw clicks here, because you clench your teeth when you really want to say something, but are too afraid to say it."

She watches Taeyeon's expression soften when her finger reaches her bottom lip, watches her eyes dart over it as she flicks the flesh lightly.

"And this, it trembles."

She takes a deep breath when Taeyeon takes her hands away, trying to control everything that surges within her.

"So, I'll ask again, do you have anything you would like to _explain_?"

She nods, finally understand the real question behind the blonde's words.

"Then, explain."

She doesn't even know where to begin. There are so many things she wants to say, like how Taeyeon was endearing from the moment she met her, that she notices every little thing about her, like her chin dimple and how she really needs a haircut.

She wants to tell her that she's sorry, wants to apologise for every single time she's ever made her upset.

She wants to thank her; for helping her, for convincing her to get a tattoo, for letting her see the real Taeyeon, she wants to thank her for so, _so_ much.

She stares down at her hands, finding her left being held in Taeyeon's, thumb stroking lightly yet rhythmically over the back of her palm. She hadn't even noticed, but now that she had, she feels safer, safer from the world outside this office.

Outside this office, there was judgement and fear and rules; inside, there was her, and there was Taeyeon.

Inside, there was everything.

She feels Taeyeon looking at her, feels her gaze scrutinise every feature on her face. She glances upwards, sees Taeyeon trying to figure her out, mouth open as if she wants to say something but can't grasp the words.

"Tae."

It makes the blonde pay attention, hair falling, covering her eyes and whatever semblance Tiffany had just seen in them.

She reached her free hand up slowly, painfully slowly, scared to break Taeyeon; she just looked so fragile right now, eyes wet like rain and clear as opal, a slight quiver in her bottom lip.

Looping her finger around Taeyeon's fringe, she tucked it behind her ear, eyes dragging down from the blonde's crinkled forehead, past her twitching nose and down to her lips.

"Explain." Taeyeon says, and she sounded more fragile than she looked. "Please."

Tiffany shook her head, allowing her fingers to rest just below Taeyeon's ear, nails tracing circles.

She heard a whimper, felt her shudder lightly.

"I can't explain, Tae." She started, leaning closer. "I thought I could, but as many words as I have, they're not enough."

A soft sigh leaves the girl in front of her, and it's warm and shaky against the skin above her mouth.

"Then what is enough?"

She smiled a little, lips tugging up in the corners, a small fragment of her teeth peeking.

She licked her lips, taking a deep inhale and looking at _Taeyeon_ , just Taeyeon, the real Taeyeon.

She sees her in a new light, but it's not really new. The sun illuminates part of her, leaving the rest in the shadows; Tiffany likes her like this, delving in between light and dark, it just seems so fitting. Her hair is out of the way, leaving her entire face exposed, and she likes it more this way, this way there was more of her to look at.

She had no explanation, not anymore; not ever, if she was going to be honest.

"This." She nearly whispered, voice cracking on the vowel. "This is enough."

She dug her nails into Taeyeon's scalp, pulling her towards her.

"Wait."

It wasn't uttered by Tiffany this time; it wasn't her who was being an idiot.

Taeyeon was now on her feet, hands in her hair, looking like she was tugging at the strands. A growl left her mouth, and Tiffany hated it because it was one of the best things she's ever heard.

"Fany, I don't −" She stopped, breathed, turned around and faced her. "What exactly do you want from me?"

She stayed silent.

"I mean, two weeks ago we were in this exact situation, but you told me to wait."

"You just told me to wait." She pointed out.

"Because I don't fucking understand any of this," It was nearly a scream. Taeyeon took a deep breath, taking her hands from head and sliding them into her pockets, and Tiffany could see the way her nails were digging into her thighs. "I just don't get it; this isn't what it's supposed to be."

"What isn't it supposed to be?"

"Like this," She signalled between them. "I'm not meant to feel like this."

Tiffany furrowed her brows.

"You're not making much sense."

"None of this makes sense." She shook her head, fringe falling from her ear and back into her eyes. "Psychologists are just meant to help their patients get better; this is never part of the plan."

"What isn't?"

"Stop asking so many questions, Tiffany."

She crossed her arms, pouting. "I would if you started giving me some answers."

"Fine. You want answers?"

She nodded.

"Fine." Taeyeon repeated.

In an instant, Taeyeon had bounded across the room, sat next to her on the couch, and Tiffany couldn't help but be aware of how dangerously close she was.

Her breath hitched in her throat as Taeyeon's hand danced along her thigh, her other hand cupping the back of her neck.

She watched Taeyeon lick her lips, watched her compose herself, unable to control her own emotions right now.

"I have one rule left, right?"

She heard her voice, watched her mouth move, but nothing processed in her brain, she only knew Taeyeon's hands, Taeyeon's scent, Taeyeon's breath, and the blackness behind her eyelids as they fluttered shut.

"My answer," Taeyeon continued. "Is that I want to break the same rule for as long as I can."

She didn't respond.

Couldn't respond.

Not when Taeyeon's mouth was on hers, lips sweet, wet, and hot, hands as warm as flames and the air being sucked out from her lungs.


	14. Mess

Every single day since her mother had told her about wishes that could be made upon fallen eyelashes, shooting stars, the blowing of dandelions and birthday candles, she had made sure to do so. And she wasn't sure what it was, whether it was the eyelash from fifty-two minutes ago, the shooting star from two weeks ago, the dandelion from a month ago, or the birthday candles from last year; all she knew was that somewhere along the way, her wish was granted.

Because Taeyeon's lips were pressed against hers, because she could feel the older girl's hand clench and unclench on her thigh, because her breath was hitched and her chest was pounding against her own.

Because Taeyeon was kissing her, and that's one thing she'll allow to romp around in her head every night from now on, because Taeyeon kissed _her_.

And that's when she realised her wish was granted, because when Taeyeon kissed her, the world around her ceased to exist.

Because when Taeyeon kissed her, she was happy.

It only took her a moment to register everything, only a moment before she remembered that the way a kiss worked is that she has to kiss back. So, she did; she leaned into Taeyeon, shakily raising a hand to rest on her shoulder and pulling her a little closer, just enough for the blonde's hand to slide further up her thigh, enough for her to hear a sigh.

She wonders how many people Taeyeon had kissed, because even though she's not entirely experienced in the area herself, she _knows_ Taeyeon is good, if not great. She wonders if Taeyeon has kissed more girls than boys, and then she realises how stupid that question must really be; she wonders if she had an experimenting phase just to make sure of her sexuality, or if she knew all along.

She wonders _how_ Taeyeon can kiss this fluidly – this passionately – without even having to pull away for air.

She placed her free hand above the one resting on her thigh; Taeyeon's hand is warm, and somehow Tiffany just knows her hands are as experienced as her mouth.

And she was right, because when Taeyeon's lips detached from hers, when she opened her eyes and met the blonde's fiery gaze, she felt the hand cupping her face dip just a little lower, enough to trace the hollow of her ear and make her shudder.

She watched a small smirk rise on the blonde's face, and as much as she wanted to slap it off her, she wanted to pull her closer and see just how much wider she could make that smirk.

"How was that for an answer?" Her voice was smug, proud, as if she knew Tiffany had never been kissed like that before.

"I've had better."

"You're lying."

It was true; Taeyeon was right, just like always, but where was the fun in letting her know that?

Instead, she dug her nails into Taeyeon's clothed shoulder, fingers pressing tight against the fabric and leans towards her ear.

"Yeah?" She asks, feels Taeyeon's muscles twitch underneath her, and it gives her a burst of confidence she never thought capable. "Prove it."

And that's all it takes before Taeyeon's mouth is back on hers, hands cupping her face like she never wants to let go, breathing short and hearts pounding.

This kiss is different to the last one, she thinks, the last one was gentle, appreciative; whereas this was fervent, perhaps even somewhat animalistic in the way that Taeyeon's lips move against her own.

She realises that she likes this kiss a lot more, wants this kiss a lot more.

Taeyeon's bottom lip snuggles between her own, and she can't resist the urge to suck on it, teeth ever so lightly raking against the plump flesh. She hears a soft groan, assumes its Taeyeon's, and does it again just to make sure.

Taeyeon's hands move down from her face, her left skimming over her collarbone and shoulder, dipping underneath to settle at her waist; her right trailing down her neck and arm, index finger igniting a sweltering line down her wrist before clasping at her own hand.

She felt her bottom lip get tugged, their position somehow switching as Taeyeon's teeth grazed over her in a way that made her sigh, gripping harder at her shoulder, bunching up the fabric into her fist.

As Taeyeon's tongue laved across her lip, she twined their fingers together, a firm hold of her hand. It made her head spin, and she wasn't even sure if she was conscious anymore; because for a girl who thinks too much, she couldn't really think at all right now.

Normally when people read about kissing, the author would describe the taste, the sensation of one's tongue against another's, but Tiffany couldn't really sum up any words for what was happening.

Sure, Taeyeon tasted like coffee, and sure, her tongue was just as hot and wet as the rest of her mouth, but that's not what mattered. What mattered was that before she even realised what was going on, she was lowered onto the couch, Taeyeon between her legs, and suddenly everything had become hot, so, so hot.

She didn't know what she was doing, just going with what her instincts were telling her to do, which was to pull Taeyeon even closer, so that they were flush together, heaving chests against one another, able to feel the blonde's heart beat just as erratically as she assumed her own to be.

Unbeknownst to her own reasoning, she smiled into the kiss, a light giggle erupting from her. Taeyeon didn't ask why, and it was probably because they both knew. Even if it wasn't verbal, it was still a game of push and pull between them, except now they were working together, moving together, and if it wasn't for the fact that the leather of the couch was beginning to make her already boiling body even warmer, she just might've kept kissing Taeyeon until she couldn't feel her own lips anymore.

She surfaced for air, the smile never leaving her face as Taeyeon looked down at her. Her face wasn't even far away, their noses still touching, and Tiffany was a little surprised that they hadn't actually bumped at one stage; or maybe they had, and she was just too caught up to notice it all.

Taeyeon pecked her one more time, feeling her lips tug up against her own.

"Now is my point proven?"

She nodded meekly, a light blush dusting her cheeks as she realises how compromising this position is.

Taeyeon is in-between her legs, one hand on her hip, the other moving stray red strands from Tiffany's face, lips swollen and crimson from her lipstick, and the goofiest smile on her face that she's ever seen.

She nods again, doesn't know why, maybe because Taeyeon was looking at her, but not really looking at her at all. She looked dazed, hypnotised by what had just occurred; and she can't really blame her.

"I have a question."

She titled her head to the side, moving slightly upwards on the couch to ease the dull throb in her spine.

"How do you feel about me?"

"What?"

"I'm serious," Her fingers fiddled with the hem of Tiffany's shirt, not teasingly, just – nervously? "I want to know."

"The past few minutes weren't enough of a give away?"

"I mean it, Fany. Just −" She heard her sigh, felt her shirt get tugged downwards at the force Taeyeon was fiddling with. "I need to hear it."

Tiffany laughs, shakes her head and looks down.

"What?" Taeyeon asks.

She stares at Taeyeon positioned between her, and though she's had one or two people like this before, they never really seemed to fit like the blonde does; the subtle curves of her waist and hips mingling effortlessly into the dip between her legs.

She trails her eyes all over Taeyeon, over her reddened lips, her dimpled chin, their twined hands, her eyes, her unexplainably impressive collarbones and forearms, just Taeyeon, always Taeyeon.

"I'm just really happy that I met you."

"Huh?"

She shakes her head again, squeezes Taeyeon's palm, brings her other one up to the blonde's face, stroking her thumb lightly over the firm cheekbone as she sits up more.

Taeyeon is still between her legs, though it looks a tad less incriminating now. She leans into her touch, nuzzles her face against the palm and places a light kiss between her thumb and index finger.

"If I hadn't met you, I probably would've been a mess."

Taeyeon smiled, "You still are a mess."

"Mm, that's true."

"So, what are you trying to get at by saying all this?"

Taeyeon takes that hand too, holding both of them in her own with laced fingers. It makes Tiffany smile just that little bit more, and before she knows it, her cheekbones start to hurt and she feels her vision get blurry around the edges.

"I'm saying that I'm a mess," She sits up fully now, facing Taeyeon, their palms resting on the small bit of couch between them. "And that you're making it better, making me less of a mess, little by little. And I'm grateful for that, I'm grateful for you."

She sees Taeyeon look down, watches her breathe shallowly before shaking her head.

"You know what this means, right?"

She shakes her head, squeezing the blonde's palm to make her face her. Taeyeon's face is troubled, lines forming on what were only contours mere minutes ago, the remnants of her smile now a thin and thoughtful line.

"What?"

She didn't expect Taeyeon's arms to wrap around her, didn't expect a somehow seemingly loving kiss on her forehead, didn't expect Taeyeon to embrace her with such a force that she felt like she was getting swallowed by a blanket.

But it's nice, and its warm, and above all, it's the safest she's ever felt.

"It means I'm going to help you get better, I'm going to clean up every single mess for you," She feels fingers clench at her, as if Taeyeon doesn't want to let her go; and she can only respond by doing the same back. "And I'm going to do it my own way from now on."

She pulls away slightly, not enough for Taeyeon's arms to slide away, just enough so she can look her in the face and make sure she's not lying.

"And what is 'your own way'?"

Taeyeon doesn't answer at first, though it doesn't look like she thinks about it either; just runs a hand along Tiffany's jaw, slots it into place at the base of her neck, thumb rubbing circles on her tendon with a soft grin.

"You'll see," She whispers, bringing her in for one short kiss. But Tiffany wanted more, she wanted to hold Taeyeon so tight that letting go wasn't enough an option, wanted to breathe her in completely, until neither of them could think straight anymore. "You'll see."

And even though it's whispered, and even though once she leaves the confines of this room she'll have to keep Taeyeon – keep _them_ a secret; she knows Taeyeon isn't lying.

Because when Taeyeon says _you'll see_ , she means it.

And when she promises Tiffany the world, and kisses her like she's more precious and fragile than stained glass, she _knows_ Taeyeon will be worth it, she'll be worth everything.

* * *

When she opens the door of her apartment, she doesn't expect a questionnaire, doesn't expect an overly pleasant greeting from Jessica, because she never gets those. She gets cute little smiles that told her at some point during the day she was missed, gets a half-assed wave that tells her how tired her best friend is and that within the next few minutes she'll probably become her pillow.

Today, she got neither.

She wasn't even sprawled out on the couch the same way as usual, with legs outstretched and feet nearly touching the end of the seat.

She was almost foetal, arms curled around her legs, chin resting on her knees as she breathed shortly – but not in the good way, in a sad way, like she'd been running in the rain for all the wrong reasons.

"Jessi," She allows her voice to linger, letting its softness hopefully settle in Jessica's ears enough that she'll turn around and acknowledge her presence.

But no such thing happens, unless you count a barely inaudible sigh from the brunette. This wasn't like Jessica, sure, she was sometimes unbearably quiet, but this was different.

She walked over as silently as she could, carefully sitting next to her friend and waiting, because Jessica always said something eventually.

She could see that the TV was on, some romance drama playing. Just as the couple were about to have yet another cliché fight, Tiffany picked up the remote, turned it off, and stared at Jessica and waited some more.

Arms were thrown around her, hair tickling her neck and it took her a moment to realise that Jessica was hugging her. It was an odd sort of contrast, because usually it was the other way around, normally Jessica was the rock, the stable one in this friendship.

She wraps her arms around her in response, rubbing up and down the length of her back and just holding her, tight enough so she feels secure.

"Yuri told me she loves me."

She didn't respond, just breathed; hugged her tighter.

"I couldn't say anything back. It's not that I didn't want to, I mean, I panicked."

"Do you love her?"

She didn't even need to feel Jessica nodding against her to know the answer.

"She won't answer any of my calls or texts, I've apologised so much, Tiff," A warm breath washed over her shoulder. "She's such a fucking idiot; I'm such a fucking idiot. Why couldn't I just tell her?"

"Shh, don't worry too much, Jessi."

She pulled away, still holding her, letting her know that she'll be here to catch her when she shatters.

"It's just such a mess," Jessica shakes her head, wrings her hands out. "What if I can't fix this?"

Tiffany smiled, wiping her friend's cheek.

"Trust me; she can't stay away from you for too long."

* * *

Yuri hadn't called Jessica back, not since she had gotten home, not since she had made the two of them dinner, not since she had had her evening shower. Yuri hadn't called, and it even worried Tiffany, because she could see how much Yuri means to Jessica, and she just wishes they would clean up their mess.

It's when she's brushing her teeth, that she hears a knock on the front door, a light patter of feet, and a little squeak from Jessica. She doesn't even hesitate to sneak a peek from the hallway.

It's Yuri, standing on their doorstep, looking a little less than pleased while Jessica's arms are thrown around her neck. She sees Jessica's mouth move, but can barely hear anything; so she leans a little closer towards the wall, peeks her head around slightly.

"I only came because you wouldn't stop ringing me," Yuri's voice was harsh on her ears, brash and accusing. "So what is it?"

She watches Jessica take a deep breath, and it doesn't take a genius to see that she's trying to hold it all together.

"I know I'm an ass right now−"

"I'm not going to argue with that."

"Let me finish, please," She sees Jessica sigh, though it's not as heavy as the last one, and brings Yuri over to the dining area, sitting her down. She notices that Yuri's hands don't let her friend's go. "Look, the reason I froze−"

"Was because you don't love me, I get it."

"Yuri, I swear if you don't shut up right now−"

Yuri edges forward in her seat, and it's odd to Tiffany, because even though Yuri is the one sitting down, she still seems so much taller than Jessica in this moment.

"What, you'll hit me? Yell at me some more? Throw me out of your apartment?" She lets Jessica's hands drop. "Do whatever you want, Sica, I can't stop you."

The next few steps imprint in Tiffany's mind, purely because she doesn't think she'll ever see something so primitive yet passionate at the same time.

Jessica growled, grappling Yuri by the collar, pulling her up mercilessly, and plunders her lips. It's odd, it's an odd way of solving a problem, she thinks, yet it's the simplest way she's ever seen.

"Just shut up, you fucking idiot," She hears Jessica mumble, watches Yuri pull the brunette onto her lap, their fight clearly forgotten. "I love you, okay? I froze, I know, but believe me, please."

The next kiss is softer, and Tiffany wonders how it still looks so ardent when their lips are only grazing over each other's. She sees Jessica's hands weave into Yuri's hair, and she suddenly feels bad for spying on them, because this isn't a fight and she isn't just checking up on her friend anymore; now, its private, its personal, and it's between them and them only.

Just as she heads for her bedroom, she hears Yuri's voice ringing loud and clear.

"I believe you, Sica."

As she closes her door behind her, leaning against it, a smile works its way up her face.

Maybe all messes will be cleaned up one day; she just has to start believing that they will.


	15. She Is

Kisses; something coveted, dreamed of, written about, kisses are everything to some people and nothing to others. That first meeting of lips for two people could be the chemical reaction of their lifetime, or a drunken idea that seemed good at the time, a dare between two best friends that awkwardly apologise for it afterwards. Kisses can be anything.

Tiffany isn't sure where she stands on it all.

She was fifteen when she had her first kiss, in a dimly lit bedroom with a faulty bedside lamp, an _Evanescence_ song playing in the background while Jessica looked at her questionably before firmly placing her lips on her own.

She didn't know how she felt, it didn't feel right, but it didn't feel wrong; so she kept kissing Jessica, until the fifteen year old her was giddy from lack of sleep and maybe even oxygen.

She kept kissing Jessica, too, until they were sixteen and things slowed down and they only kissed once or maybe twice after that. It never seemed like it was going anywhere, Jessica had told her before that she was just experimenting because it's what most fifteen year old girls do and it's better to have your first kiss with someone you trust than a random boy at a party.

She didn't like her second kiss that much better, if she was being completely honest. Not because it wasn't good, but because it scared her.

She was eighteen, alcohol in one hand and a lit cigarette that she hadn't touched in another, helium balloons tied up and floating around her and she remembers wondering if she inhaled the helium, would she faint, giggle or just disappear.

It was her first year of college then, and she couldn't really disagree with her drunken self when it told her the girl sitting next to her was dragging her hands up her thigh in such a way that just didn't seem playful anymore.

So, she kissed the girl to make her stop.

The girl – she thinks her name was Summer, it's still a bit hazy – was all eager hands and glossed lips, and from what Tiffany can still scrounge for in her brain, they ended up sleeping together in the dorm across from her own.

Kisses were something that eluded Tiffany, and sometimes she couldn't help but think if kisses didn't exist, would relationships still be strong?

If strangers didn't kiss at parties, they might not have thought they made a mistake the next morning; if she and Jessica didn't kiss all those years ago, they might not have stayed so close; and if she and Taeyeon didn't kiss, would they still be silently hoping the other would reach out, or would they have just given up entirely?

Though, she thinks there may be differences in the ways kisses can affect people. Her kiss with Jessica was hesitant and always curious, and her kiss with Summer was a turning point, a wakeup call, perhaps, to the side of her she wanted to remain hidden; but her kiss with Taeyeon was something else, something she just couldn't put her finger on no matter how hard she thought about it.

"Tiff," She heard the snapping of fingers, a whistle, her name. "Tiff, you there?"

She refocused her eyes, taking them away from the wall and back to Jessica, who was sitting across from her in one of the armchairs.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you wanted to go out for lunch today, seeing as I have a day off and you don't have an appointment."

"Uh, sure."

Tiffany was starting to get sick of the way Jessica looked at her, full of concern and pity and love. She didn't want it, didn't need it.

"You sure? We can order in if you want."

"It's fine. I'm fine." She says, reassuring Jessica as she takes her hand and purse. "Let's go."

* * *

It's sunny outside, Tiffany realises, because there are more shadows in the daylight than usual. She can see her own figure in front of her, raising her hand and laughing a little when the shadow exaggerates how long her fingers are.

It's unwanted though, because she loves rain. She loves the soft sounds, the ambience, the way the water looks as it drags down a window's glass, she just really loves rain, and she doesn't like it when the seasons change.

"I'm so happy that its spring, aren't you?" She hears Jessica say over a gust of wind, it echoes in her ears, and if she listens hard enough, she can hear the clouds screaming for help.

"I guess," She shrugs, and the two slow to a walk as they reach a vast field of grass and wildflowers. "I was always more of a winter type myself."

Jessica agrees with her, nodding as she sits down in the grass, starts waving her hands over the blades of green.

"You always have liked the cold weather best," Her friend continues, fingers wrapping around a wildflower. "Why is that?"

"I don't know," She replies, sitting beside her. "I suppose it's because you don't feel as much in the winter, everything is already cold so it doesn't matter if you are too."

Jessica doesn't say anything after that, just picks the petals off her wildflower and waits for the wind to blow them away.

Tiffany feels the grass underneath her, its cold but not wet, just cold from the wind and the lack of attention and she couldn't help but feel like if she was going to be any kind of vegetation, she'd be grass.

"Jessi," She starts, gripping the grass between her fingers roughly. "Do you think anyone is truly happy, or do you think they're lying?"

She doesn't hear anything at first, wonders if maybe Jessica had fallen asleep, because she was lying down with her forearm over her eyes and the wildflower was long forgotten.

"I think some people are truly happy, and some are liars."

She nods, not sure why because she knows Jessica can't see her.

"Do you think you're lying?"

"No," She hears the grass rustle, turning her head and watching Jessica face her. "But I don't think I'm happy, either."

"You don't?"

Jessica laughs a little, "Does anyone?"

Tiffany looks down at her hands, her nails unpainted and short, and she wonders what nail polish she would wear if she were truly happy, if it would be sick shade of yellow or bright shade of pink or maybe even electric blue.

She thinks if she were truly happy, she would redecorate her room entirely with electric blue instead of pink, and she thinks that only her subconscious will know the reasoning behind that.

She sighs, the wind carrying it away as she looks and Jessica and Jessica looks at her.

"Liars do."

* * *

Her knees are starting to cramp up; the idea of sitting cross legged always coming back to bite her in the ass as she watches the TV. Jessica sits next to her, face blank as the colours whirl around her face in a show that seems more interesting than the one they're actually watching.

Tiffany starts to wonder what things would have been like if she and Jessica had ever grown feelings for each other, if their fifteen or maybe even sixteen year old selves had gotten a crush on the other and somehow it blew out of proportion and they fell happily in love.

She thinks it could be easy to love Jessica, with her charm and kindness, and those urgent hands and fevered lips; it could be easy to love her best friend, easy to love someone she's known for so long and be physical with them.

At the same time, though, she could never love Jessica in any other way than she does now. It's too familiar, too cliché, and while on one level the story could be great to tell their hypothetical grandchildren, she realises that it just wouldn't work and she's glad it wouldn't, because Jessica is her best friend and that's all she could ever need.

"Tiff,"

She looks up, pays attention.

"I forgot to ask you this last week because of my own drama, but," She watches her friend hesitate, watches her thin bottom lip get caught between her teeth. "Did you and Taeyeon sort things out?"

She smiles at Jessica, nodding.

"I'm guessing it went well, then."

"Yeah," She fiddled with her fingers for a moment, picks up the TV remote for a distraction. "Hey, Jessi,"

"What is it?"

"Is it," She stammers, well not really, but it's hard to say the words she hadn't even thought of yet. "Is it – I don't know – different kissing Yuri than it is other people?"

She watches Jessica blink, eyebrows coming up before she answers, "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"How?"

"Well, I mean, it's obviously different because everyone kisses differently, but," Jessica smiles for a second, grabbing a pillow from the couch and holding it between her arms. "I don't know, it's better in the sense that it _is_ Yuri, and nothing else really matters because she's the only person I want to be kissing."

She nods, not really understanding Jessica's words at first.

"It's always different with the person you love, Tiff."

She nods again, grasping at what she's been told, threading it through her mind to try and make sense of what her brain is trying to tell her.

Maybe she'll just have to kiss Taeyeon again to figure it out.

* * *

She's not sure how she's supposed to act anymore, not sure if the charade of innocence is meant to follow her inside Taeyeon's office and sit with her on the couch. She's not sure if she's meant to keep quiet or talk to Taeyeon or to kiss her or anything.

It takes Taeyeon's hand on hers for her to realise that nothing really changed to begin with, and that it's just her worrying that's making everything so different.

"Tae," She almost whispers, and she isn't even sure why she does it, she just likes to hear the girl's name come off her lips, likes to feel it roll off her tongue.

"Yes?"

"You got a haircut."

Taeyeon laughs a little, probably at the fact that of all the things she could say, she chose that.

"Yeah, I did, thank you for noticing."

She mumbles a 'you're welcome', and then silence encases them once again.

Tiffany really doesn't know how to react to anything anymore, she isn't sure where to go from here, isn't sure whether she should stare at the clock and wait for the minutes to count down or if she should just leave or cry or−

Warmth surrounds her entirely as Taeyeon's lips are on hers, firm and hot and everything she wants. She feels her toes curl as Taeyeon's fingers hold her chin up, because she's not quite sure if she can consciously keep her head up anymore.

When Taeyeon pulls away she doesn't open her eyes, because that would mean having to face the blonde without blushing or apologising and she's not exactly sure she can do that.

"There, not so awkward anymore, is it?"

She shakes her head, opens her eyes slowly to find Taeyeon looking at her with such softness that she feels like her chest could explode.

It takes her a moment before she can speak again, and even then she regrets what she says.

"What am I to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we kiss and we have feelings for each other, but what _am_ I?"

It feels like a lifetime before Taeyeon answers, "Why don't we discuss it over dinner?"

* * *

She finds it a little hard to believe sometimes that she has someone like Taeyeon in her life, someone so caring and lovable, even if they don't love themselves. Taeyeon, to her, was a blessing in disguise, one she wasn't sure she should even be having, but now that she has it, she's not letting go.

Then again, she's not even sure if she has Taeyeon, if Taeyeon is hers or if she's Taeyeon's.

Jessica is out with Yuri for the night, a little plan made by her friend yet again, while she and Taeyeon quietly eat dinner together inside her apartment. There was no noise as they ate, a comfortable silence hanging over them as they sat alone with their thoughts.

Later, when they're on the couch together, cuddling under the guise of watching a movie, does Tiffany finally speak up.

"Tae,"

The fingers stroking through her hair stop for a moment before Taeyeon answers, "Yeah?"

"Do you believe in angels?"

"Please tell me you're not using a lame pick up line."

"I mean it, Tae," She says, adjusting her position so she's facing the blonde. "It's just – you came at the exact moment I needed someone, someone who wants to fix me."

"But I don't _want_ to fix you, Fany," Taeyeon's hand slides through her hair, resting on her jaw. "You're exactly what I want the way you are."

"Even the crappy parts?"

"Even the crappy parts," She repeats, leaning upwards to place a soft kiss on her forehead, another on the bridge of her nose and two more on her cheeks. "I just want you. I want you happy, I want you sad, I want you angry, I want you mad."

"Thank you, Dr Suess."

"Shut up."

Tiffany doesn't get the chance to fire back a remark, not when Taeyeon has pulled her down for a kiss that steals her breath straight from her lungs. She kisses her back, one hand on her shoulder, the other atop the couch so she doesn't drop and squash the blonde.

It seems Taeyeon doesn't care though, swiping a hand playfully over hers so she collapses onto her with a giggle. She bites Taeyeon's lip in response, which causes the blonde to smile against her before pulling away.

"I,"

She hears her start, realising that it's a bit of a role reversal from the last time her and Taeyeon kissed like this; now, she's the one on top, astride Taeyeon and she can feel the girl's bare thighs against her own, not sure if its Taeyeon or the spring heat that's making her feel this hot.

"What is it?"

Taeyeon shakes her head, smiles at her as she tucks hair behind her ear, lets her hand rest there before dipping down and skimming along her neck, collarbones, settling on hips.

"I just want you," She says again, her other hand stroking Tiffany's cheek. "I want you for as long as you'll let me have you."

She doesn't know what to say, doesn't even know where to begin, so she does what her body tells her to do and grabs both of her hands in hers and twine their fingers.

"Ask me again."

She tilts her head to the side, feeling Taeyeon squeeze her hands softly.

"Ask me again what you are to me."

"What am I to you?"

She's starting to think kisses can be an addiction, the way Taeyeon's lips slide across her own, the way her hands hold her, the way she can get so lost in the sensations that she's pretty sure its midnight now but it doesn't even matter.

"You're Tiffany," She feels Taeyeon say against her mouth, hot breath only driving her further into insanity. "You're kind, you're gentle, you're a mess, you're so unbelievably broken, but I'm going to put you back together."

She pulls back, "Why?"

"Because," Taeyeon's hands rest on her hips, thumbs drowsily drawing patterns. "I'd like my girlfriend to be happy."

"Your what?"

Taeyeon sniggered, kissing her once, twice, three times before, "Wanna be my girlfriend?"

"How romantic."

"Oh, c'mon, like anything we've done is romantic."

"That's true."

"So," Taeyeon tries again, and even though she seems confident, Tiffany knows she's hanging onto every word and hoping she didn't screw up somewhere along the way. "What do you say?"

She laughs quietly, nodding, "Obviously."

"Thank you."

She doesn't know why Taeyeon thanks her for agreeing to something that easily agreeable, but when they kiss and her hands are in Taeyeon's hair and hers are on her waist and it feels like the earth around her is shattering, she thinks she's beginning to know what she means.


	16. Something Worth Losing

At three years old, a ragged, little Miyoung had told her mother that she wanted to be a princess and absolutely nothing else would sate her, and her mother would laugh and ruffle her hair the way she hates it ruffled, and would tell her _okay_.

At seven, a loud Miyoung had told her older sister that she wanted to be just like her, with straight hair and curled eyelashes and glossy eyes that boys could dream into, and her sister would giggle and put her hair into pig tails just like she asked, and would tell her _okay_.

At fourteen, a reserved Miyoung had told her brother that she wanted to be an author and that she wanted to write stories for children because children are the only people that seem to understand her, and her brother would give a hearty laugh and move the hair out of her eyes, and he would tell her _okay_.

At seventeen, a cautious Miyoung told her father that she wanted to be a singer, that her voice was good enough and that she 'totally has the drive to do it, I swear', and her father's mouth turned into a thin line that only meant discipline was to come, but all that did was a hug and he told her that maybe wait a year or two just to make sure she wanted it, and she would tell him _okay_.

Now, at twenty three, an anxious Tiffany sits in a room full of hanging silences as her friend stares down at her, eyes locked onto the firm red lines on her wrists from gripping too hard and the slight indentations her nails left behind.

Jessica doesn't say anything; just stares and looks a little lost, because something like this hadn't happened for a while, Tiffany had kept it together pretty well these past few months.

"I'm sorry."

Still silence, the kind of silence that makes her hear the pounding in her head, the kind where she can hear all her past conversations blend into one mass of noise, where her memory attacks her with such a force that she's knocked back onto the couch and she's not too sure right now but she thinks she can see the walls close in and she can feel herself sinking into the ground and she wants to scream so loud that even the devil himself will hear her and−

Jessica takes her face in her hands, and Tiffany just watches her friend's eyes tear up and she has to divert her gaze to her trembling mouth to feel a little less guilty.

"Don't be sorry."

She feels arms around her, closes her eyes and shakes her head as she feels Jessica's heart beat against her own. She thinks Jessica's heart is different to hers – not in terms of obvious anatomical difference, but something else, like the way it beats strongly, feels real. Hers feels different; her own heartbeat feels weak and forced against her ribcage, like its fighting for something that's not entirely worth it.

"Talk," Jessica's arms slide away from her, hands holding hers firmly as she twists her arms to look, the red lines are fading now, a little less obvious. "Talk to me, Tiff."

She opens her mouth, feels the ghost of her words flow freely but knows she can't really say much without setting Jessica off. She doesn't want to make her cry – make her hurt again, she can't do it, she can't.

She wonders why Jessica sticks around, why she's still here, because she feels like she has absolutely nothing to offer her friend. Nothing good, anyway.

"I just," She pauses, doesn't realise how shaky her voice is until now. "I want . . ."

She stops again, can't actually thinks of what she wants; she wants so many things, she wants a hug, she wants to be able to not disappoint Jessica, she wants Taeyeon to be better again, she wants her father to be happy, she wants her mother, she wants, she wants, she wants.

Jessica waits patiently, doesn't say anything and holds her hands slightly tighter, and when Tiffany looks up she can see the fear in her friend's eyes. It makes her feel guilty, so damn guilty that its spreading through her, flowing through her quicker than blood and she can feel it, feel it weighing her down and taste it like copper in her mouth or maybe she just bit her tongue too hard.

"You want what..?" She asks, hesitant and curious but not pushy, never pushy. "Talk to me."

She swallows, looks down and finds that her hands are shaking, and she's not certain but she thinks she can see her pulse.

"I want to be happy."

She breaks, feels something nimble snap inside her and for a second she thinks it's her ribs and that her entire chest had just caved in on her heart and pierced it. She hates when she gets like this, so anxious and sad that its actually tiring and she can feel herself curling further into herself, and she knows that nothing will get her out of this mess except a good night's sleep.

Jessica is hugging her again, holding her so tightly that she knows her chest didn't collapse because it's starting to hurt being held like this, but she reminds herself that it's a nice kind of hurt, the kind she likes, the kind that reminds her she's loved.

"You will be," She hears her whisper, feels Jessica's breath against her hair and it warms her up. "I promise, you will be – you have to be."

She hugs back, holds Jessica just as tight, feels a tear on her shoulder and then feels more and she apologises to Jessica for making her cry.

"Don't be stupid," The response follows, a soft punch on her shoulder blade reminding her that Jessica is strong and hates being apologised to when it's not due. "Just promise me something."

"Okay."

Jessica pulls away, holding her pinkie out with a closed fist and smiles like she did in high school, all purity and slight innocence.

"Promise me that no matter what happens," She watches her wipe at her eyes, sees a thin black line appear on her shirt sleeve from her mascara. "Promise me that I'm not going to lose you."

She smiles a small smile, shaking her head. "Jessi, we already made this promise years ago."

"I don't care, we're doing it again." She thrusts her fist in front of her, pinkie waggling. "Now, promise me."

She hooks their pinkies together, rolls her eyes, and the pads of their thumbs meet atop their fists, sealing the promise.

"There, pinkie sworn."

"Good," Jessica's voice is clearer now, and whether that's because her friend gained more confidence or whether the sounds in her head stopped, she wasn't sure. "By the way, I forgot to tell you, Yuri and I made amends last week."

"I know."

Jessica tilts her head, and Tiffany realises she's nearly dropped the ball.

"I mean, um, I – I heard you on the phone to her when I got out of the shower the other night, so, uh, yeah, you seemed pretty happy and I just assumed that you two−"

"You're rambling."

She stops, nods.

"Yeah, I am."

Jessica crinkles her nose, pokes her cheek. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah, I am."

Jessica stands from the couch, leaves the room for a moment before coming back with six small vials and a smile on her face. She sits on the beanbag, patting a spot on the cold floor beside her, inviting Tiffany, who follows and sits cross legged, the floor chilling her thighs.

"We haven't done this for a while, you know."

She nods.

Jessica hands her the electric blue vial, hopeful smile on her face.

"I got your favourite."

She takes the vial from Jessica, twists it between her hands and uncrosses her legs.

"We can get take out later if you want, too. Would you like that?"

She smiles, uncapping the nail polish, "Okay."

* * *

Sometimes, she finds herself studying Taeyeon a little too intently. Not that she wasn't entitled to, now that she was her girlfriend after all – a term which still made her toes curl – surely she was allowed to look more than usual.

She notices that while Taeyeon is clearly an attractive person, it's the little things that really make her something more to her. She supposes it's always like that when you really understand someone, that it's more than just physical attraction, that there's something about that person that just gets to you.

She realises she's been staring a little too long, and that Taeyeon is looking back at her with that strong gaze and cocky smirk that she both loves and despises.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She nods, inhales and wonders why the end table between them seems like so much, too much.

"Why," Taeyeon laughs at herself, inhales deeply and mutters something to herself that Tiffany doesn't quite catch. "Why does it feel like even though I know you're across from me, it feels like there's a galaxy between us?"

She feels her cheeks heat up, feels something pool in her chest that she can't recognise but it's welcomed and she likes the feeling.

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing."

Taeyeon nods, smiles and looks down at her notes that Tiffany knows aren't really notes. She's caught Taeyeon drawing before, sometimes scrawling lyrics and Tiffany wonders if maybe a psychologist wasn't her first choice of career, maybe she wanted to be something else.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Taeyeon nods, looks up from what Tiffany is sure is a drawing of a panther, and waits.

"What did you want to be when you were a kid?"

She watches Taeyeon ponder the question, watches her take her bottom lip between her teeth and Tiffany has to clasp her hands together to resist doing it herself.

"I think – yeah – yeah, I wanted to be an idol."

"Really, you?"

Taeyeon's brows furrow, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "What, you don't think I could do it?"

"I just can't imagine it."

"I'll have you know I'm a fantastic singer."

Tiffany stares, waits for a second to see if Taeyeon actually sings something to prove her point, but she doesn't and now she's wondering if she looks like a lovesick idiot for staring.

"I've never heard you sing."

"I don't do it often, only when I'm alone or in the shower."

"Oh." Is all that she says, all that she can say when images of Taeyeon in the shower beat down on her mind, making her flush.

"What about you, what did you want to be?"

She groans, "I wanted to be a lot of things, I'm sort of indecisive."

"I knew that already." Taeyeon says, grin on her face as she leans forward, dismissing her drawing and placing it on the arm of the chair. "But tell me anyway."

"Well, there was a princess," She blushed, hung her head low in embarrassment and began numbering them on her fingers. "An author, a singer, I think I even wanted to be my sister at one stage."

"That's," Taeyeon lets out an amused breath. "That's a lot of things."

She shrugs, "Yeah, too bad I never got to be any of them, especially a princess. That would have been fun."

"You seem to forget something, Fany."

Taeyeon stands from her seat, walks towards Tiffany and holds out her hand for her to take.

"What?"

She takes Taeyeon's hand, who immediately spins her under it with a toothy grin and finishes the twirl with holding her close.

"You forget," Taeyeon places her lips on her forehead quickly, but the sweet gesture seeps into Tiffany's skin, makes her mind fizz. "That you already are a princess. Or, you're as beautiful as one, at least."

With her free hand, she half-heartedly flicks Taeyeon. "So cheesy."

"Let's be honest, you swooned then, I totally made you fall in love with me."

Tiffany shakes her head, kisses Taeyeon to shut her up.

"Yeah, totally, that's exactly what happened."

"I knew it," Taeyeon sighs dramatically. "How can I be _this_ irresistible?"

"Now you're getting cocky."

"Oh, really?"

"Really−"

Taeyeon's lips had plundered hers, hands resting on her hips, firmly gripping Tiffany, who felt like she was falling. Her legs felt astral, like they weren't even there and she was just floating with Taeyeon and that nothing else existed but the two of them.

She inhales through her nose sharply, not wanting to pull away for even a second as her hands thread into Taeyeon's hair, fingers running along the silken locks until she hears a whine (more like feels a whine) leave the blonde.

"You okay?" She asks, staying motionless as Taeyeon laughs at her.

"I'm fantastic, it's just that – well, you . . ."

She tilts her head, sees Taeyeon's cheeks dusted with pink and suppresses the urge to tell her how cute she is.

"The spot you just hit–"

Tiffany smiles, running her fingers along Taeyeon's scalp and across the bone behind her ear.

She hears Taeyeon whimper, watches her eyes close and feels her hands shake against her.

"Yeah, smartass, that spot," She laughs a little, tugging Tiffany closer. "It's kind of sensitive."

"I guessed that," She thinks of doing it again, over and over until Taeyeon's whine is all she can hear because if she's being honest, it's one of the best sounds she's ever heard. "Good sensitive or bad sensitive?"

"Good," Taeyeon's hands run up along her spine, fingertips narrowly missing one of her own spots. "Very, _very_ good."

She tilts forward, ready to kiss Taeyeon into the next century and maybe even further when a knock sounds on the door and she has to jump away.

The round receptionist stands at the door, eyeing the two of them before speaking.

"Doctor Kim, your next patient is waiting. Would you like me to send them in?"

She watches Taeyeon watch her, feels her heated gaze drag across her body before tearing her eyes away as she answers the receptionist.

"Oh, uh, of course." She stammers, clears her throat and wipes her hands on her pants as she gestures Tiffany towards the door. "I'll see you next week, Miyoung."

She feels Taeyeon's hand land on the small of her back, fingers curling around her spine and she's not sure whether it's the fact that her Korean name sounds amazing on Taeyeon's tongue or if Taeyeon just hit one of her spots or if she's just lightheaded or if it's all those things that are making her feel like she's about to faint.

"Um, yeah," She squeaks out, cursing herself for sounding so stupid. "See you."

She didn't fail to notice the lingering touch Taeyeon gave her as she left the doorway, nor did she fail to notice the way Taeyeon looked at her when she turned her head.

She realises that Taeyeon's rule breaking extends past hidden kisses and sweet words behind closed doors, that she doesn't mind staring at Tiffany like she means more than the world because Tiffany is pretty sure she stares at her the same way, and that she's not scared of a short little receptionist and that she will still prove her affection towards her through the stare of her fellow employees.

She realises just how dangerous her and Taeyeon's situation truly is, not just because of ethics or law, but because she has something – something worth losing and the thought of losing Taeyeon frightens her to the pit of her stomach.

Its then that she realises Taeyeon was more than right, she has swooned.

Or worse, she's fallen.


	17. Lucky

In a half-lit bedroom, where the beige walls encase around a pink fitted double bed, where the rain hits against the window and the moon has risen high into the night sky, there's no sound, barely anything to be heard other than the patter of rain, the slight snoring of Yuri, and her thoughts.

Because _surprise_ , Tiffany mutters in her head, she's thinking again.

Perhaps one day she'd get tired of thinking, tired of her mind racing ahead of her consciousness, tired of not being able to keep up with conversation because her head was doing its own thing, tired of the endless hours that could be spent sleeping but aren't.

No, she probably wouldn't ever get tired of thinking, much to her dismay.

She enjoys thinking, no matter how odd that may seem, she really does like it. She likes being in her own little world most of the time, because at least then, no one can interrupt her.

Scratch that, she sighs, hearing her phone buzz on her bedside table. She rolls over from the middle of her bed, dragging pink blankets with her and leaning half her head on the pillow as she numbly reaches out for the device.

For someone who's half asleep, she sits up pretty quickly. Her screen lit up, illuminating parts of the room that were dim, covering her in a white glow that burns her tired eyes but she can't find herself to care, not when she sees the name, not when she sees the message and not when she unlocks her phone to stare completely at the lone message.

Are you awake?

She wonders if Taeyeon texted her because she was thinking of her, or if it was because she was bored or maybe because she was working late. Either way, she texts back.

Yeah, what's up?

For another minute and a half she's left hanging in silence, holding her phone and watching the screen in case anything more gets said, but nothing does and she lets out a little exhale, not sure if she's disappointed or just overly attached. Surely Taeyeon has things to do, surely she can't text back right away all the time−

Her ringtone splits through the silence in her room, perhaps even the house because she thinks she can hear Jessica whine from where she's lying. She brings the phone up to her ear, takes a sharp breath in and she's not even sure why because she's talked to Taeyeon so many times before but somehow this feels different, more intimate, she guesses.

 _"You know, when you pick up the phone, you're meant to say 'hello'."_

She hears Taeyeon's voice, hears her soft laugh and it's a little different over the phone, more distorted and an octave lower than she's used to or maybe that's just how Taeyeon's voice sounds at nearly midnight.

"Hello," Is all says, clears her throat as she's suddenly rendered thoughtless. She wonders why Taeyeon is calling this late at night, wonders why the girl is even still awake when she has work the next morning and, "Why are you calling this late?"

She can hear Taeyeon mock gasp, and she fights the urge to smile. Even over the phone, Taeyeon manages to be stupidly charming.

 _"What, can't I call my girlfriend when I miss her?"_

She wants to reply, wants to answer Taeyeon, wants to jump through the phone and into the girl's apartment and hug her until all she can feel is her heartbeat on hers but all that comes out of her is a choked sound that makes Taeyeon laugh.

 _"Sorry,"_ She hears her say, voice genuine and Tiffany realises she misses Taeyeon too. _"It's true though, I miss you."_

"Yeah, I miss you, too." She flushes, toes curling. "Is that why you're calling, though, or is there another reason I should know about?"

 _"Ah, caught red-handed,"_ She feels the corner of her lips tug up, and she throws the cover of her bed back, beginning to crawl underneath. _"I did have an ulterior motive, but I don't know if you'd like it."_

"What is it?"

 _"Well, I mean, it's not set in stone or anything but I thought I'd ask because I feel like it's about time I ask this and I just−"_

"Taeyeon," She interrupts, smiles fondly and thanks her stars when she realises Taeyeon can't actually see her. "You're rambling."

 _"Right, sorry."_ She hears Taeyeon clear her throat, a crackle in her ear as the girl exhales, and Tiffany wonders what could possibly be so nerve wracking to someone like Taeyeon. _"Do you, um – well, I'm free tomorrow night since I stayed at the office late to finish all my work and – ugh. Tiffany, do you want to go on a date with me tomorrow night?"_

She doesn't say anything, just feels air bubble in her throat and behind her nose until she laughs, knees shuffling underneath the covers and her hand over her mouth.

"Oh my god, you stuttered for so long over _that_?"

She couldn't help but ask the question, she knew sometimes Taeyeon could get nervous but she had no idea it was to this extent, and it was adorable.

 _"Shut up, it was a big deal in my head."_

"Okay," She giggles one more time, "Sorry. But yeah."

 _"Yeah, what?"_

"Yes, Tae," She feels her fingers curl around the edge of her phone, ears warm on the edges but she assumes it's just the heat from her phone. "I'd love to go on a date with you."

 _"Really,"_ Taeyeon sounds giddy, she thinks, and it just makes her cheekbones rise to her eyes. _"I'll pick you up at around seven, is that okay?"_

"It's," She yawns, stretches her legs and feels herself becoming drowsy despite her excitement. "It's more than okay."

 _"Am I keeping you up?"_

She nearly says yes, nearly says it and it makes her hate how sleepy she is because no matter how tired, there will always be room for Taeyeon.

"No," She yawns again, tries to stop it but it just doesn't work.

 _"Fany, you should go to sleep, I can hear you yawning."_

She rolls over onto her side, pillows soft and lukewarm against her face and she closes her eyes for a second and thinks that she has everything, because there's a warm bed, comfy pillows and Taeyeon's voice and it's in that second that she thinks this is all she'll ever need.

She starts to fade in and out, hearing the rain, not hearing anything, and she knows somewhere in her mind that she's falling asleep.

Her eyes completely shut and her hand goes limp, and just before she falls completely into the blissful void, she hears Taeyeon's chuckle, hears her voice.

 _"Goodnight, beautiful."_

Without locking her phone, without turning off her lights and without closing her window's blinds, she falls asleep.

* * *

She wakes up moments before her alarm goes off, finding her phone stifled further under the covers than she is herself, and puts it to sleep as soon as the first tone of it can go off. It feels heavy in her hands, but surprisingly, that's the only thing that feels heavy – other than her eyelids, of course.

She squints, looks outside and sees condensation on her window, encasing the glass in a white glow, the sun peeping through where her blinds should have been, but she remembers that she didn't actually close the blinds last night; maybe that's why she's a little chilly.

It's not a bad kind of chilly, though; it doesn't seep through her skin or hang in the air, it's just fresh, like taking in a deep breath and feeling your head clear. She likes this.

She checks the time, wonders if either of her friends will be awake, because honestly she wouldn't mind talking to either Yuri or Jessica, and it amazed her somewhat because she's always a little scared of morning Jessica.

Deciding its best to at least wash up, she throws the covers off herself and stands, beginning to trudge down the hallway and into the bathroom.

She knocks this time, not wanting to walk in on Yuri ever again, and walks inside when she hears no response. White walls surround her, everything nice and neat and in order and it's not until she reaches for her toothbrush that she realises she's still holding onto her phone.

There's a faint buzz inside her head as she places the phone on the sink and rinses her toothbrush, like her mind was trying to remember her dream even though she wasn't too fazed if she did or not.

She remembers pirates, she thinks – or at least, they _seemed_ like pirates, digging for buried treasure. As she spits the foam from her mouth, she remembers a heart shaped lock on the chest, opened by a key. She rinses her toothbrush, applies more toothpaste and brushes again – remembers the pirates being disappointed, because their treasure wasn't gold, wasn't worth anything, just rows upon rows of yellow tulips – whatever the hell that meant.

She's learnt it's probably not best to try and interpret dreams, as well and good as they may turn out, they're just subconscious thoughts, just things she doesn't want to think about during the day – because why would she think about locks and keys and yellow tulips?

She hears a knock on the door, turns to it when she hears a chorus of her name follow.

"Yeah," She says, mouth still full of foam.

She hears the door open, feels a chin on her shoulder and looks up to see a sleepy Jessica in the mirror, smiling lazily with her eyes closed.

"Are you nearly done in here?"

She spits out the foam, turns to Jessica and gives her a wet kiss on the cheek, much to the older girl's disgust. Tiffany smiles brightly, ruffles her tangled hair.

"All yours," She takes a step, turns back. "Do you need me to entertain Yuri or..?"

Jessica shakes her head, reaching for her own toothbrush blindly.

"I don't think so, unless she got out of bed within the past two minutes I've been up."

Tiffany nods, grabs her phone and closes the door behind her, wonders when Yuri became such a heavy sleeper. Maybe Jessica tired her out.

Ick.

She thinks of walking over towards the fridge, but realises she's not that hungry yet. She thinks of talking to someone, but can hear the shower running and knows Yuri is still asleep.

She shrugs, pouting a little as she throws herself onto the couch, grabs the remote and begins to flick through channels. Being a Sunday morning, she doesn't have high hopes for TV at all, but she tries anyway.

She's just reached the ridiculously priced shopping channel when she feels her phone vibrate against her stomach, raises her head to see the name, maybe it was her sister. She hesitates, thinking of the time she embarrassed herself in front of Michelle, but it wasn't so bad the last time she saw her. It buzzes again, and this time she picks it up.

Morning, beautiful ^^

That was it, literally two words word and an emoji, and here she was, nearly falling off the couch. God, she was pathetic.

Morning, how are you?

She held the phone to her chest, closes her eyes for a moment and hears someone walk in and use the toaster, she thinks its Yuri.

Bored, can't wait for work to be over so I can see you

She hears a laugh, sits up immediately and realises that Yuri is sitting on the beanbag, plate of toast on her lap and a grin on her face. She slouches a little, hoping Yuri wouldn't say anything, wouldn't make a comment or tell her how stupid she looks.

"Judging by how pink you are, I'm going to assume that's your hot doctor who's texting you."

She smiles despite herself, throws her head forward so Yuri can't see her blush when she nods.

"Weren't you meant to still be in bed?" She asks, embarrassment feels like it's the only emotion she's capable of right now.

"I was," Yuri took a bite of her toast, crunching it in her mouth. "And now I'm here, waiting for you to fill me in on you and your girl."

"She's not−" But Tiffany realises, Taeyeon _is_ hers, and she's Taeyeon's. "Okay, you got me."

"Ah, so, how did she ask you?" Yuri leans forward, nearly drops her plate but saves it at the last second. "Was she romantic, sexy, did she screw it up?"

"No, she," Tiffany trails off, wonders what she could possibly say about the way Taeyeon asked her to be her girlfriend. Romantic, no. Sexy, not really. Screw it up, a little. But it was still cute, still sweet, still _Taeyeon_. "She just sort of – asked. It was nice."

"Have you guys gone on a date yet?"

She looks back to her phone, eyes wide and sends the quickest reply she can, starts to feel bad and hopes Taeyeon isn't disappointed she didn't text back straight away, because she wanted to and damn it why was Yuri distracting her.

"We're going on one tonight."

"Mm," Yuri places the plate on the coffee table, props her elbows on her knees. "Any idea where you're going?"

She shakes her head, "Guess she wants to surprise me."

* * *

It's seven o'clock and she's sitting on the couch and literally all she can think about is Taeyeon. She wonders what she's wearing, where she's taking them tonight, if it'll be romantic or if it'll be ridiculous but either way she doesn't mind because it's with Taeyeon. She wonders if Taeyeon will like what she's wearing or how she's done her hair (because Jessica did all that for her), she wonders if she'll be able to stop herself from just clutching onto Taeyeon the whole night and not letting go.

She feels her phone vibrate against her thigh, picks it up and hears it ring loudly.

"Hello?" She answers, hears a light but audible cough from the other end.

 _"Hey, um, this may sound weird but,"_ She hears rustling, wonders what it is. _"Can you, uh, can you open your door?"_

"My door?"

 _"Yeah, you know,"_ She hears heavy knocking on her front door, eyes wide. _"That door."_

She hangs up, rushes towards the door and opens it.

"Hey."

She feels like the breath has been knocked out of her, seeing Taeyeon standing on her doorsteps with a bouquet of tulips in her hands, a nervous smile on her face and it doesn't even matter what she's wearing because Tiffany thinks she's absolutely glowing.

"Hi," Taeyeon sounds breathy, clears her throat and hands her the flowers. "I wanted to get you roses or something, but on such short notice this is all they had, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" She takes the bouquet from the blonde, places it gently on the kitchen counter and makes a mental note to ask Jessica where they keep the vases. "They're beautiful, thank you."

She sees Taeyeon rub the back of her neck sheepishly, watches her cheeks tint pink and Tiffany just walks back towards her and takes her hands in hers.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just−" Taeyeon stammers, runs her thumbs along her skin. "I'm a little nervous, that's all."

"After everything, _this_ is what makes you nervous?"

Taeyeon laughs slightly, twines their fingers together and drags Tiffany out of her apartment and closes the door for her.

"Yeah, I mean, I don't wanna mess this up."

Tiffany swells with gratitude, feels her stomach flip and something inside her feels bubbly and bouncy and she's not sure why but she kisses Taeyeon on the cheek and starts walking.

"Don't worry, we'll be okay."

* * *

Taeyeon opened the door of her car for her when they arrived at the restaurant, an act that made her chest flutter and her feet wobbly as she stepped out of the vehicle and onto the pavement. It wasn't that much of a walk to the door, but Taeyeon tried to shield them both from the rain as much as she could.

There were still a few droplets caught in the blonde's hair, Tiffany noticed as Taeyeon opened the door, a couple on her cheeks and forehead as well but she wasn't going to tell her.

Her heels dragged along as she walked, red carpeted floor beneath her and oak walls surrounding her. She didn't really listen to anything when Taeyeon talked to the maitre d', just focused on everything around her.

She passed other couples seated happily, some with a family and some without, passed portraits and landscapes that hung open the walls along with autographs of celebrities who had dined her before. It was nice, simple, elegant, somehow very Taeyeon.

Taeyeon pulled her chair out for her, too, and Tiffany wasn't sure if she was swooning or just on the verge of passing out.

"I hope this isn't too fancy for you or anything," Taeyeon said, reached out for the menu. "I mean, I wanted to impress you, but I didn't want to go over the top."

She smiled, picked up her own menu, "It's lovely here, Tae, thank you."

"No need to thank me."

Once their meals had respectively been placed in front of them, Taeyeon dug in immediately, Tiffany feeling like she was watching a cartoon. She laughed at the sight, shaking her head and beginning to eat.

"You know, I'm glad you took me here."

Taeyeon looks up from her half-finished plate, cocks a brow, "Why?"

"Because," She smiles, looks down for a moment to think of how to word her appreciation. "It's just, it's different being in public with you."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure," She confesses, doesn't know why it's so hard to get the words right. "I mean, when we're in private it's great, but it's a secret, and I have to try not to scream how much I like you from the rooftops."

"You like me that much, huh?"

She leans forward, flicks Taeyeon's forehead, "Yes, I do."

Taeyeon laughs under her breath, muttering something as she reaches for her drink. She misses, knocking the glass and spilling its contents over everything.

"Oh god," She hears, eyes zoning in on the spill. "Fany, I'm sorry."

She watches things on the table budge as Taeyeon gets up, watching everything clutter together, watching it pile up and she doesn't know why this is setting her off but maybe it's because she's had such a good run and her anxiety likes to be an ass.

The oak walls don't seem that inviting anymore as she feels them close in on her, feels her chest constrict and she swears that she feels her veins clench inside her.

She looks around the room, sees that no one is paying attention and she's not sure if that's a good thing or not but she can't even see Taeyeon right now, she's not in front of her or beside her so where the hell was she.

She clutches the seat of her chair, doesn't need to look to know her knuckles are white and her tendons are sticking out because she can feel her bones like tree roots right now.

She thinks she hears something in the back of her mind but ignores it, she's learnt never to trust that voice, it never means good.

"Tiffany," She hears it again, tries to turn away from the voice. "Fany, it's me."

Warmth encases her hand and she realises that its Taeyeon, the voice is Taeyeon's, and the walls stop moving and her chest stops for a moment and she looks up and hates herself because she's just ruined their first date.

She stands up, hesitates for a second before throwing her arms around Taeyeon and burying her face in the crook of the girl's neck.

"I'm sorry, Tae," She inhales, calms down when she smells flowers. "I've ruined our date, I'm sorry."

"Hey, no," Taeyeon's hands on her waist guide her backwards, enough so she can look at her and it just makes her feel worse because Taeyeon looks at her like she's done nothing wrong. "You didn't ruin anything. The staff are going to clean this up and I apologised and paid our bill already, I'm sorry I didn't get back sooner to help you."

"You're here now, that's enough."

Taeyeon smiles, plants a kiss on her forehead before taking her hand and beginning to walk.

"I have another idea anyway."

"What is it?"

"You'll see."

* * *

Blackness surrounds her as she walks, guided by the hands over her eyes and voice next to her ear. She takes slow steps forward, careful not to trip on anything Taeyeon points out to her. She hears the opening and closing of a door as she walks in, music flooding her ears straight away and she smiles.

The blackness is gone, replaced by Taeyeon's face all too close to her own, framed by the interior of the diner.

"Surprise," Taeyeon says, leans in and kisses her once before taking her hand and walking her to a booth.

She sits next to Taeyeon instead of across from her, rests her head on her shoulder and plays with her fingers. She watches goosebumps rise on Taeyeon's forearms, wonders if she's cold because she isn't really.

She looks around, spots the blonde waitress and sees that Taeyeon has already waved at her.

"Taeng, you didn't tell me you'd be here tonight," The girl looks between the two of them curiously, and Tiffany can feel herself blush at the stare. "I thought you were on a date."

"I was – I mean, I am."

The girl breaks out into a wide smile, and Tiffany laughs a little when the blonde ruffles Taeyeon's hair. She nuzzles her cheek into Taeyeon's shoulder, feels her hand touch her thigh and she sighs, smiling.

"Ah, took you long enough," Hyoyeon took out her pen and pad. "Anything you want to order?"

Taeyeon's arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer so her chin rested on her shoulder, she feels her eyes close for a second as she breathed her in.

"Just a small bowl of fries, please."

"You got it," The waitress smiled at them, putting the pad and pen back in her apron pocket. "By the way, Taeng, are you doing anything for your birthday?"

"My what?"

"Your birthday, you know, the one that's in two days."

"Oh, um," Tiffany looks up at her, waits for her to finish and nearly slams her own head on the table because she can't believe she forgot about her own girlfriend's birthday. "Nah, you know me, I like to keep it quiet."

"Alright, but don't be scared to stop by, you know the door is always open for you."

"I know. Thanks, Hyo."

Tiffany groans, buries her face into Taeyeon's arm and stays there, wishing she could just fall through the floor and to the centre of the earth.

"Hey," She feels a hand on her jaw, feels her face being lifted. "What's the matter?"

"The matter," She shakes her head, pouts. "First, I ruin our date, and now I've forgotten it's your birthday in two days, I can't believe myself."

"It's not that big of a deal, really," She rubs her hand up and down Tiffany's forearm, and she feels like maybe it's not a big deal, but she knows it is, she has to do something for her. "Don't worry about it."

"But I will worry, Tae," She sits up properly, props her hands on Taeyeon's thighs for balance. "I mean, you're my girlfriend, we need to celebrate your birthday."

"Even if it's just us?"

She's not sure why, but she leans forward, clenches her fingers on Taeyeon's thighs and kisses her. It's a calm kiss, she thinks, no hesitance but no urgency and she likes it, likes her and Taeyeon being calm, together, like nothing exists but them.

"Especially if it's just us," She says, kisses her one last time, smiles and feels her teeth _click_ against Taeyeon's, realises they're both smiling too much so she pulls away and goes back to resting her chin on Taeyeon's shoulder.

"You know," Taeyeon starts, sounding whimsical, "This is the first year since I was a kid that I've actually looked forward to my birthday."

"That's kind of morbid, but I'm glad I could be of service," She looks up, pokes Taeyeon's cheek. "You're lucky I like you."

She expects a witty retort, expects a comeback, expects anything but what she gets.

Taeyeon laughs softly, pulls her closer, she's almost sitting on the girl's lap, and she flushes – nearly squeaks – when Taeyeon kisses her hairline, hands holding her like she doesn't want to let go.

"Yeah," She hears, rests her head on a different angle to see all of Taeyeon's face, only to be greeted with sparkling eyes and a dimpled smile. "Yeah, I really am."


	18. Under Stars

_Love, noun; a strong feeling of affection'._

She sighed, closing the dictionary she held, throwing it across to the other side of the couch. She leans her head back, enough that she feels the wall behind her tickle stray hairs. The dictionary made it sound so simple, so easy, like love was an easy thing to define.

But she has a strong feeling of affection for lollies, for new clothes, for sleeping, but that doesn't mean she loves those things. The dictionary must be wrong, because she has a strong feeling of affection for a lot of things without actually loving them, including Taeyeon.

She doesn't understand why she's so hung up on it.

She tries a new definition in her head, one that might make sense. The thing with love is that it can't be turned off, whether platonic or romantic, it's not like you can snap yourself out of love. Love – it's complicated, or maybe it's simple.

She remembers having asked Yuri about love, having texted her sister and asked the same thing, and yet every time she thinks she has an answer, it slips away.

She wonders if she can be in love, if she can be the type to be loved back. She wonders if she loves, would she love with all her heart, or would she deny it, shy away and pretend it doesn't exist to spare herself the awkward rejection.

"Earth to Tiff," She hears, blinks, sees Jessica standing in front of her. "You said you wanted me to take you shopping, right?"

"Right," She says, stands up.

She follows Jessica to the door, watches the girl check her purse to see if she has everything with her that she needs.

"You know, you didn't actually tell me what we're shopping for."

"Its, uh," She smiles weakly, squints a little. "Its Taeyeon's birthday tomorrow and I need to get her something."

"And you're only telling me this now?"

"Well, I mean, I only remembered yesterday after our date."

Jessica shakes her head at her, pats her shoulder and begins to lead her out the door.

"Any idea what you're going to get her?"

"Um," She takes a glance back to the dictionary as Jessica shuts the door behind them, watches her lock it and somehow feels herself resonate with the situation. "Sort of."

* * *

They walk out of the shop, Tiffany frazzled and Jessica tired as their footsteps trudge against the floor. Tiffany runs a hand through her hair, absolutely manic. She can't find anything to get Taeyeon, can't find anything to get her girlfriend, and there won't be any time tomorrow to find something.

She has absolutely nothing to give her.

"Tiff, relax, I'm sure we can get out tomorrow−"

"Jessi, I _really_ appreciate the pep talk you're trying to give me," She sighs. "But at this rate, I feel like crap. I mean, I can't even find her anything that suits her, surely I should know enough about her by now but I literally cannot think of anything."

Jessica takes her hand in hers, feeling her thumb run across the back of her hand and leads her towards the grocery store.

"Look, I just have to get basic stuff; I promise I won't be too long."

"What do you have to get?"

"Just the usual," She smiles down at Tiffany, and she knows her friend is trying to distract her for a minute or two, just enough for her to calm down and start shopping for Taeyeon again. "You know, bread and milk."

She blinks, lets go of Jessica's hand and runs into the store without so much as a word of explanation.

Unbeknownst to Jessica, she had just given Tiffany the best idea ever.

* * *

She stares at her phone, reads the birthday text she's about to send Taeyeon, decides to erase it. It's the third message she's written, and somehow nothing she writes seems poetic or meaningful enough to get her point across.

She wants to wish Taeyeon a happy birthday, but she wants to wish her many more birthdays, wants to wish her happiness for every day and wants to tell her that she wishes to be with her on those happy days, and her sad days, all her days.

She wonders if that's love, if its love to want to be beside someone on all their days, both good and not so good. She wonders if love is simply being with that person, or thinking about that person, or anything to do with that person.

She wonders if she loves Taeyeon.

Of course, in theory, it sounds plausible. They're affectionate, attached, know a lot about each other and have a strong connection – but Tiffany wonders if its plausible if taken out of theory and put into practice; if the moment called for it, could she say she loved Taeyeon without a trace of doubt, could Taeyeon say it back, could they love each other at all.

She likes to think in both practice and theory, its plausible, after all, she was raised with the motto 'nothing is impossible'. Her mother taught her from a young age that love is something you can't control, and when she first told her mother at six years old that she loved her classmate, her mother said it was okay.

Would her mother love Taeyeon, would Jessica, would her father and her siblings, would Yuri, would anyone possibly love Taeyeon as much as Tiffany herself does?

She wonders, if she were to bring Taeyeon to a gathering with everyone else she loves, would she still love Taeyeon, or would the love of others overshadow her own. Would Taeyeon still love her, or would she cower in fear at the prospect of being examined by that many people.

Her head snaps up after she hears her stomach grumble, realises she hasn't actually eaten at all since she woke up. She checks the time on her phone, midday, two hours have passed while she was thinking and she wasn't even sure where all that time went, hopes it doesn't pass that quickly while she's with Taeyeon tonight.

She makes a bowl of cereal, leaning on the kitchen bench and digs her spoon into the bowl.

Jessica walks in as she takes her first bite, smiles at her friend and watches her sit down across from her.

She lets her eyes flutter over Jessica's features, notices that over the past few months that she's been with Yuri, her face has changed. Not in shape or size or anything like that, but there's a rosiness in her cheeks, a slight upturn in her lips and a twinkle in her eye. She wonders if Jessica looks like that because she's in love, wonders if she looks like that herself.

"Hey, Jessi," She starts, brings another spoonful to her mouth. "I need to ask you something."

Jessica looks up from her phone, locks it and sets it on the bench.

"How did," She swallows, leaves the spoon in the bowl. "How did you figure out that you love Yuri?"

She watches Jessica think, sees her brows furrow and her fingers tap against the countertop.

"Because whenever I looked at her, that's the only thing I wanted to tell her."

She inhales, nods.

"Then, why didn't you tell her first?"

"Simple," Jessica shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder. "I wasn't sure if she'd say it back. Because no matter how she looks at me or kisses me or holds me, there was always that part of me that wondered if she'd ever find someone better, if she'd ever get sick of me."

She looks down, picks up the spoon and starts moving cereal around. She's not that hungry anymore.

"How do you get over those thoughts?"

She can practically hear Jessica smile, doesn't look up because she knows she'll be right. And she hates when she smiles like that.

"By holding her close, hearing her heart against my own, beating in sync." She sees Jessica's head come into vision, the girl having lowered herself to her eye level, swatting the spoon back into the bowl. "By telling her, by hearing her say it back. That's how."

She thinks about it, wonders if she'd ever have the guts to tell Taeyeon, wonders if Taeyeon would ever have the guts to tell her. Maybe they'd both just be stuck in this limbo forever, both feeling but never saying, both loving but never loved.

"Does Taeyeon hold you like that?" Jessica asks, nudging her to look up at her. "Do you hold her like that?"

She doesn't answer, though she feels her lips twitch in the slightest, and that seemed to be enough for Jessica.

"Exactly," Is all her friend says, hears her get up and make her own brunch, hears her curse at the microwave, hears her feet patter whenever her phone goes off with a text that's so obviously from Yuri, and Tiffany finds herself smiling.

She's not even sure why, but when she looks down and finds her cereal soggy, she doesn't mind, just tips it into the sink and rinses everything off.

She heads towards the couch, picks up the dictionary from yesterday and places it back in the bookshelf, wondering if Taeyeon likes flowers.

* * *

As her heels click down the sidewalk, she realises that some bags are just too heavy to bring on a walk. Granted, its Taeyeon's present, but she's decided that she's definitely going to think of something lighter next year.

As she gets to Taeyeon's door, she rings the doorbell, shuffles her feet and switches the bag into her other hand.

The door opens, Tiffany nearly drops the bag.

It's not even that Taeyeon is breathtaking, because Tiffany isn't even sure if she has any breath left anymore. There isn't a word to describe Taeyeon; no words would do her justice. Sure, she may just be in cropped jeans and a tee shirt, but it's enough to make Tiffany want to drop everything and forget about everything that isn't Taeyeon.

"Hey," She hears Taeyeon, watches her move aside and gesture for her to come in.

She looks around Taeyeon's house, wonders if maybe she should become a psychologist too because _wow_ , it pays nicely.

"Here, let me carry that."

Taeyeon reaches for the bag, but she turns her body, the bag swinging into her calf and she won't admit how much it stung.

"You can't, it's your present."

Taeyeon smiles, shakes her head, "I told you I didn't need you to get me anything."

"Well, too bad," She switches hands again, feels her muscles strain. "Do you have a kitchen or something I can put this in because it's really heavy."

"Of course I have a kitchen," She feels Taeyeon's hand on the small of her back, leads her down the hallway, past the archway that leads to what she assumes is the lounge, her heels _clacking_ against the hardwood floor as she takes them off. "This way."

Tiffany takes a deep breath, heaves the bag onto the kitchen counter and looks at Taeyeon, who's staring at her curiously.

"Turn around, and no peeking."

Taeyeon bites her lip, "Not even a little bit?"

"If you peek, I don't kiss you for the next month."

Not needing any further encouragement, Taeyeon turns around and covers her eyes.

She takes each item of the bag out one by one, setting them neatly onto the counter, nearly running out of room but she manages to make it work. She strides her way to Taeyeon, sees the blonde's fingers widen to reveal her eye.

Tiffany shakes her head, takes her hands away and holds them.

"You can look now."

Of all the reactions she thought could happen, she gets the unexpected one.

Taeyeon tears up, throws her arms around Tiffany. She can feel the girl's breath on her cheek and ear, runs her hands along her back and frowns.

"It's not bad, is it?"

Taeyeon pulls away, enough to kiss her once, twice, thrice, and pull away entirely, running over towards the bench.

"Are you kidding?" She watches her girlfriend with a smile, heads over towards her. "Fany, this is – it's amazing. You're amazing."

On the bench, there lay twenty two small cartons of chocolate milk, one a day for the rest of the month, each with a blue straw taped to it and a note signed with a row of X's. In front of them all, is a line of red tulips, spread evenly.

"I just – I couldn't think of anything, and then I remembered what you told me your dad used to do for you, and I guess I just wanted to show you that I cared enough to give you chocolate milk for every morning because you deserve it and I mean I know I'm probably getting ahead of myself but I want to be that person that can give you chocolate milk every morning and−"

Taeyeon had already rushed around the counter, wrapped her arms around her waist and kissed her. She kissed back, hands in Taeyeon's hair, fingers massaging her scalp and she feels herself being lifted, her lips off Taeyeon's and the girl spinning her before putting her down, resting her forehead on hers.

"You," She feels Taeyeon's thumb sneak under the hem of her shirt and past her jeans, rubbing over her hip bone and she starts to feel dizzy and she's not sure if it's because of the spinning or just Taeyeon. "You don't need to ramble."

"I wasn't rambling."

"You were," Taeyeon laughs, runs her index finger over Tiffany's jaw, hand now on the nape of her neck and thumb pressing into the hollow of her ear. "But it's okay, you're cute when you ramble."

"When I ramble?"

"Well, most of the time."

Taeyeon goes up on her tiptoes, placing her lips on Tiffany's forehead and she feels like she could die happy right now because everything just seems so perfect.

"I love the gifts. I love−" She sees Taeyeon hesitate, wonders if she's going to say anything. "I, uh, I want to show you something."

She cocks her head, sees Taeyeon just smile at her and feels her take her hand in hers, threads their fingers together and weaves her past the dining area and before she knows it she's outside, in what she presumes is Taeyeon's backyard.

She can't believe she didn't notice this before, too caught up in Taeyeon's kisses to realise that there was a whole other world outside the blonde's house.

Taeyeon leads her past the outside dining area, past the lounge set and straight the pool. She lets go of Tiffany's hand, kneels down and Tiffany feels her chest flutter when Taeyeon rolls her jeans up for her.

Taeyeon rolls her own jeans up too, sits by the pool and lets her feet sink into the water. Tiffany catches on, sitting beside her, watching her feet splash through the water and seeing it ripple before glancing at Taeyeon.

She's looking up, jaw line and neck tendons prominent as her face gets bathed in moonlight, mouth agape slightly and Tiffany just stares at her, wonders if Taeyeon has ever been told how truly beautiful she is.

"Fany," She watches Taeyeon's mouth move, enraptured by what the pink muscles can do with her syllables. "Do you ever think about what's past this universe?"

She thinks about it, having never really prepared for such a question in her life.

"Sometimes," She wiggles her toes under the water, exhales. "I mean, surely there's something out there besides earth and what we know."

"Mm," She looks at Taeyeon, finds the girl looking at her, too. "When I was a kid, I used to wonder what it would be like to be abducted by aliens, if they were nice or if they were mean. That was before my dad died, though."

"Oh," She breathes, finds Taeyeon's hand, twines their fingers together and doesn't dare take her eyes off her.

"After he left, and I was stuck with my mother," She hears Taeyeon's breathing shake, leans closer to the girl, holds her hand tighter. "I wanted to be abducted by aliens, I wanted to get out of this world and find a new one – one where I could be happy, where I could be myself without feeling ashamed."

"You don't feel ashamed now, though, do you?"

Taeyeon shakes her head, hair hiding her eyes so Tiffany brings her free hand up, moves her fringe out of the way, holds Taeyeon's cheek as tenderly as she can.

"No, I'm not ashamed anymore," She smiles crookedly. "I'm happy now, too."

She feels her heart swell, feels like fireworks are exploding inside her stomach, feels like she's a helium balloon about to float off and never be seen again.

But Taeyeon holds her tightly, embraces her and she can feel Taeyeon's heart beat against her own. In sync.

"I've never," She feels Taeyeon exhale, hot breath meeting her neck and making her skin prickle. "I've never been too good with my feelings. I don't know how to talk about them. Normally, I just shut myself out, isolate myself away from them."

She feels Taeyeon pull away, feels a hand cup her face, the other resting on her hips, thumb against her hip bone and she feels like sighing.

"But because of you, I want to talk about them. I want you to know how much you mean to me, it's tricky – god, it's tricky – but I'm trying so hard to tell you everything and not scare you off at the same time."

Tiffany shakes her head, brushes her thumb over the sensitive spot of Taeyeon's ear, watches her shudder.

"Now who's rambling?"

Taeyeon scoffs, smirks, kisses her softly.

They stay like that, rocking back and forth, holding each other close until Taeyeon's fingertips brush against Tiffany's spine, causing her to jump and squeak, throwing them both into the pool.

She rises from underneath the water, hair sticking to her face and hands wiping away at her eyes. When the rush of water leaves her ears, she hears Taeyeon laughing, and when she opens her eyes, she sees her head thrown back and the biggest smile on her face that she's ever seen.

That's when she knows it.

She loves Taeyeon.

She feels hands on her waist, bringing her closer. She realises Taeyeon has stopped laughing, just smiling at Tiffany like she's the only thing in this universe that matters to her. She hears her pulse in her ears as Taeyeon brushes the wet hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ears before her slippery mouth meets her own.

She kisses Taeyeon, holds her tight, hands on her shoulders and moving up towards her wet hair, drags her closer and makes sure that Taeyeon is the only source of heat she feels. She remembers somewhere in the back of her mind that Taeyeon likes swimming at night, but hates being cold, giving her an idea.

She feels Taeyeon's hands lower, circling her hips and resting on her upper thighs, bringing her closer. Tiffany wraps her legs around Taeyeon's waist, crushes their bodies together and runs her tongue along the seam of her lips.

She feels Taeyeon murmur against her, pulls away and raises an eyebrow.

Taeyeon smiles like a child, "Happy birthday to me."

"You're an idiot."

Taeyeon playfully taps her backside, hands drifting higher, under the hem of her shirt and along her bare waist. She shudders, head dropping as she exhales heavily.

"Correction," Taeyeon tilts her chin up, making her face her. "I'm your idiot."

She smiles, looks at her face for another second before closing her eyes and leaning back in.

She kisses her with everything she has, tongue sliding against Taeyeon's, feeling the girl's teeth nip at her bottom lip. She tugs at Taeyeon's hair, desperately trying to get the girl closer, until their bodies meld together.

She kisses her with every ounce of love that she cannot voice, sighing and smiling against Taeyeon's mouth as the blonde swallows her sighs, offers her own as her hands explore her back, fingertips grazing down her chilled skin.

She feels Taeyeon pull away, sees her eyes and becomes scared for a moment because she thought she was looking directly into a reflection of her own. But she's not, Taeyeon has the same look as her, the same hesitant twinkle in her eye, the same twinkle that Jessica has, that Yuri has.

"Fany, I−"

She shakes her head, shushes Taeyeon with a finger on her lips. She knows neither of them are ready to say it, perhaps not even ready to hear it.

Maybe, just maybe, she doesn't have to tell Taeyeon. Taeyeon doesn't have to tell her either. Because they both know, they don't need to voice it; they can just let it be, because at the moment, words aren't enough.

Tiffany nods at Taeyeon, "It's okay."

Taeyeon smiles at her, gratitude flowing through her veins as their lips meet again. And Tiffany can only hope she's given Taeyeon the best birthday she's ever had.

As Taeyeon sighs against her lips, as she feels the blonde smile against her and hold her like there's nothing more valuable than her, she realises she's given Taeyeon more than the best birthday.

Under waning moonlight and an abundance of stars, she knew nothing shined brighter than her and Taeyeon in this very moment.


End file.
